


Death of the Wild

by withcameraandpen



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Detective Noir, F/M, Lots of rain, Murder Mystery, Pining, Post-Calamity Ganon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 01:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17613167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcameraandpen/pseuds/withcameraandpen
Summary: Disaster strikes again in Hyrule after Ganon's sealing away: Impa, beloved leader of the Sheikah, passes away. Link emerges from his self-exile to attend her funeral and reunites with Zelda. When it becomes starkly clear that their friend's death is not what it seems, they're determined to find out what happened and who is responsible. Anyone in Kakariko Village could be the murderer--or the murderer's next victim.





	1. A Fallen Friend

Hyrule was saved, and Impa was dead.

Kakariko Village was one of the most serene places in Hyrule. The Sheikah village was peaceful, calming, and, though it received few visitors, it always welcomed them. Today, though, a suffocating silence had befallen Kakariko save for the gentle patter of rain. No birdsong, no children laughing as they chased each other up and down the sloping paths, and no gentle rattling of the wooden wind chimes. Sheikah tradition dictates that chimes should be taken down for a funeral.

To Link, grief had never been silence. Silence was peace, a reprieve from battle. Grief was the squelching of his blade through a Bokoblin, only to find he was too late to the punch, and his fellow soldier was already dead. Grief was horses whinnying and explosions from bomb arrows that always caught more Hylians than monsters in its blast. Grief was loud enough to scare him to death.

But even Impa’s death had been quiet and gentle. She passed peacefully in her sleep, carried off to the Sacred Realm by the goddesses. It was the kind of death few soldiers saw, and most craved.

Link was one of three attendants of Impa’s casket. He stood beside the other two at the foot of the stairs leading to her home on Lantern Lake. Before him sat Impa’s casket upon a makeshift altar. Others, Dorian, Cado, and Rolk among them, held incense burners. The three chosen as official escorts of the casket to the deceased’s final resting place, one each to represent the goddesses that created Hyrule, were assigned sacred tasks to lay the dead to rest. First was Paya, clad in red like the rest of Kakariko Village. Sheikah from all over Hyrule had come to pay their respects to their beloved elder. The walking paths all through the village were packed with mourners.

Paya had been given the role of Din, the goddess of power and earth. Paya lay flowers in her grandmother’s open casket, fighting back tears all the while. Impa lay in a pure-white kimono with a dark red Sheikah eye emblazoned on the front. Link had noticed that, but he had not looked at her face. He couldn’t look at the face of his dead friend.

Now he would, though. Paya, having lain the last of the flowers in the casket, drew back and wiped her eyes. Unable to speak, she nodded with her chin to the casket. 

Selecting the attendants for the procession, Link thought, must have been laughably easy. After Impa had guided Link onto the path to save Hyrule, it only made sense for him to represent Farore, the goddess of courage, life, and wind. His role was to finally close the casket. The Sheikah believed the act of a final farewell took great courage, though now Link felt like the smallest, most frightened being in Hyrule.

He moved forward slowly, as though his legs were made of iron, and reached up to the open lid of the casket. Now he finally looked down and took in Impa’s still, lined face. She looked as sagely as ever, but of course the familiar glimmer in her eyes was gone and there was no quiet smile upon her lips.

Link closed the coffin lid and stepped back, gaze on the ground and he and Paya moved to the end of the casket. He felt all of Kakariko’s eyes on him, and felt horribly out of place in his Champion’s Tunic. Impa had seen him in this every day in the time before the Calamity. Why should he wear this tunic? Why should he act like this was any ordinary day?

The most grueling task was assigned to the attendant representing Nayru, the goddess of wisdom, water, and law. This representative must remain stoic and dignified as they led the funeral procession from the home of the deceased to their grave. It was the most honorable role, the role for your most trusted friend, as it symbolized protecting the spirit of the deceased as they passed into the Sacred Realm. 

Zelda looked very queen-like from her place at the head of the procession. 

He had heard she had raced through Hyrule at breakneck speed when news reached her of Impa’s death. Paya herself had asked her to represent Nayru upon her arrival, and Zelda had accepted the offer with somber gratitude, or so he was told. 

Zelda wore a gown of dark red, a color the Sheikah associated with death. When she took her incense burner from the guards, her shoulders were squared, and her head was held high. Even having borne witness to her strength, he was surprised she was as unbreakable as ever. Well, she had seen a lot in the last one hundred years.

The pallbearers included Robbie and Symin, Purah’s research assistant, who was too little to be able to bear the casket, so instead she walked beside him. The other spots were filled by loyal Kakariko guards. The pallbearers took their place, and Link saw a shiver run down Zelda’s spine as she lifted her burner and began the procession to the graveyard. It was a short walk, but Link felt a mile in every step. He had never felt such a deep and draining exhaustion in all his tireless travels across Hyrule.

From here, the ceremony was mercifully quick. Impa’s casket was lowered into her grave, the attendants set the burners where her headstone will eventually go, and they and the pallbearers each tossed in a handful of dirt. They stood to the side as each mourner got in line to do the same, their stoicism failing when confronted with the dreadful sight before them.

Paya was losing her will, crumpling in on herself while sobs ripped out of her. The princess moved closer to her and pulled Paya into her arms. Link and Zelda’s eyes met, hers full of tears and his hardened and grim, and then they looked away. 

He almost wished he were back on the battlefield. Grief was loud and assaulting, but he had only seconds to mourn a fallen soldier before fighting for his own life. Soldiers didn’t have time to grieve properly, but the surrounding danger had provided a distraction, which now seemed like the finest luxury in the land. Here, the pain stayed and forced him to reckon with it. The only danger was that it might swallow him whole.

He reached out and touched Paya’s arm. She and Zelda both looked at him, and he said, “I’m sorry, Paya. I need some air.”

“Oh.” She sniffed, her brow furrowing uncertainly. “If you must.”

“Thank you.” He turned on his heel and did his best to quietly leave the funeral, though his departure had certainly attracted some disdainful stares. But he had closed the casket, he had planted the incense. His job was done, and he was technically free to go.

He marched out of the graveyard, past the darkened Ta’loh Naeg Shrine on the hill, and toward the goddess statue, weaving through the crowd creeping toward the graveyard. As he knelt before the statue of Hylia and folded his hands in prayer, he saw a tall, cloaked figure enter the inn, bending their head so they fit through the doorframe. The inn’s owner was at the funeral, so waiting to rent a bed was a futile exercise. 

He climbed to his feet and went to the inn, pushing the door open carefully. Weapons were encouraged at funerals for Hylian royalty, but the Sheikah would not tolerate them. It didn’t stop him from reaching over his shoulder to grasp a hilt that wasn’t there as he pushed open the door of the inn. “The burial is down the path.”

The figure turned around. Under the hood, he saw the dark skin, prominent nose, and thick red hair of a Gerudo woman. She wore a baggy doublet, which Link suspected may have been hastily bought at a stable to ward off the chill of the changing seasons.

Link snapped, “What are you doing here?”

“Hoping to rest after a long journey,” the Gerudo said coolly, setting her knapsack on one of the beds. “Is that quite all right?”

“No.” He gestured out the door. “The town’s busy, if you didn’t see.”

“I know, which is why I was about to leave my money on the counter.” She fished a little pouch out of her bag, and then a red rupee out of that, and walked over to lay it squarely on the book of reservations. “Satisfied?”

“Link?” a voice called from outside. He left the Gerudo hovering at the counter and went to the door. He had awoken to that voice from a hundred-year sleep; he wouldn’t let her call go unanswered. 

He went back outside. Princess Zelda was walking towards the inn while Sheikah were filtering back through the village, clustering around the homes that had taken in the wind chimes to protect them from the rain. Zelda’s tears were gone. “We have to re-hang the chimes. Can you help?”

“Of course.” Sheikah and Hylians shared many funeral traditions—in fact, the Hylians had taken the tradition of the processional attendants from the Sheikah tribe—but this is where they wildly diverged. Now, Hylians would be gathering around a fire or a table to share a meal. The Sheikah would hang the wind chimes and then retire to their homes and begin work tomorrow.

Link walked down the steps and towards Zelda when a voice said, “Actually, the Charmed Chimes can only be handled by Sheikah.”

Paya’s fiancé Rolk stood by them, his distraught betrothed in his arms. Purah and Robbie had stopped on their way back to Impa’s manor to watch the spectacle before them. Seeing the Sheikah eye drawn upon their foreheads was an odd sight, but every pure Sheikah had worn it today to honor their fallen leader. “It’s—it’s okay,” sniffled Paya, waving off her suitor. “They’re like family. Why shouldn’t they be allowed?”

“It’s okay.” Link neared her. “We’ll take you back inside, how about.”

Paya nodded. Zelda reached out and put an arm around her, and then nodded at Link. Together they walked with Paya up the stairs to her grandmother’s home, out of the rain and away from the spotlight. 

Link held the door open for Robbie and Purah, who moved achingly slowly as a sharp wail poured through the doors of the manor. Instead at looking for its source, he trained his eye on Rolk as he headed off to aid in rehanging the Chimes. He walked past one wiry Sheikah moving slowly along the paths, cradling a pair of Chimes in her thin arms. She gazed at them as though they were her own child, or a long-lost treasure.

Robbie and Purah had reached the threshold. Link followed them inside and closed the door, discarding his soaked cloak. Paya, overcome with grief, had all but collapsed to the ground, and no one knew how to help her.

“Your Highness,” said Purah, reaching up to tap Zelda’s hand. “I think it’s best if Robbie and I take my niece upstairs.”

“Of course.” Obediently, Zelda helped Paya to her feet. Robbie took the young girl’s hand and the three Sheikah climbed upstairs to Paya’s bedroom. Right as they disappeared around the corner, Symin entered the manor and hung his dripping-wet cloak beside Link’s. 

Symin wiped his forehead, smudging the red Sheikah eye drawn upon it. “Where is Paya? Purah?”

“Upstairs,” Link said tersely. “But they’d like to be alone.”

“Of-of course. I just saw her crying earlier.” He wrung his hands. “I don’t like sitting idle. If there’s anything I can do for the family—”

“She’ll tell you if there is. Your Highness, I was wondering if you might join me outside for a moment.”

Zelda looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since her arrival in Kakariko Village. She had visibly matured in the time since he’d seen her, but he could still see their ugly parting reflected in her eyes. It was still fresh for her, and if Link didn’t lie to himself, it was fresh for him, too. It was such a trifle of a matter, and he had no business feeling sorry for himself on today of all days, but it must be the work of the goddesses to make him remember it so vividly. Pain this strong must have divine will behind it.

She answered him with a carefully measured voice, stilted and unfamiliar. “What is it?”

“Let me show you.” He nodded to the door and, as though nothing had happened, they donned their cloaks and went outside together.

He lifted his finger to his lips and led her around the narrow patio to the back of the manor. They were hidden from the village and drowned out by the waterfalls that lined Lantern Lake. No one would overhear them. 

“Link, what’s happening?” she repeated, her eyebrows furrowing in anger. “Tell me what’s going on. All of Kakariko Village is running low on patience today, and so am I.”

“Zelda, Impa was murdered.”


	2. The Witness in the Fountain

The rain poured. The waterfalls of Lantern Lake thundered beside him. Princess Zelda, heir to the throne of Hyrule, was staring at Link as though he’d grown a second head. 

She didn’t say anything for a long, long moment as his words sank in. But when the shock did wear off, the first thing she did was glance over Link’s shoulder and then her own, as though he hadn’t already ensured they wouldn’t be overheard. “Link, she died in her sleep.”

“No, she didn’t.” Link knew what he saw. He knew the signs, but his grief had slowed his brain into molasses. “Impa was murdered in cold blood.”

Zelda was never able to conceal her emotions. Whether they were cooped up in Hyrule Castle, where she was miserable, or they were traversing Hyrule in the course of her research, one thing remained constant: Zelda didn’t shield herself from him. Now, though, she was taking great care not to look put out. “We all process grief differently, but trying to find a justification for Impa’s death is only going to harm Paya and the rest—”

“By Hylia’s grace, Zelda!" He wasn't fooling himself! And she knew he never fooled himself, so why did she suddenly think he was afflicted with ignorance? “This isn’t a coping mechanism! I know for a fact that someone took her life.”

“How did you know?” Zelda snapped. “If you have evidence, then I want to see it.”

Link paused. Maybe if he had acted faster, had recognized it more quickly, he would have had real, proper proof. But a wounded soldier moved very, very slowly.

“When I looked into the coffin to close it, I got my first real look at Impa. It was difficult to see, but I noticed the very insides of her lips had gone very black.” He leaned in even closer. “That blackening is a sign that she drank Virtuous Venom.”

Zelda frowned deeply. “Virtuous Venom?”

He had learned plenty in the year or so he had journeyed across Hyrule to free the Divine Beasts and save Zelda from Ganon’s clutches. “I learned of it from a vendor named Kilton. The telltale symptom is the lips turning black after death. That’s what I saw in the casket. That’s how I know someone took Impa’s life.”

She stared at him, dumbfounded. Her mouth opened, but no words came forth, a sight he had rarely seen in all the time he knew her. Sure, it had been a very long time since they’d seen each other, but he had never known words to fail her.

Zelda glanced back at the manor again and then drew closer to Link. “Why didn’t you say something before we buried her? If you recognized signs of foul play, you should have stopped the burial!”

“I didn’t know what I saw until after she was buried.” He kneaded his empty fist at his side. They needed to act, and to act, he usually took sword in hand. 

Apparently, Zelda was ready to take action, too. “We need to find the person who did this. Kakariko’s closed off to outsiders, which means it must be someone in the village who did it.” She stopped short and dropped her gaze, and Link felt a hard pit form in his stomach. He knew when Zelda had hit a wall. “We need proof.”

She was right. They had only hearsay, essentially, and the hearsay of a non-Sheikah went only so far in a time of mourning. Zelda’s word carried a little more weight, seeing as she was the princess of Hyrule, but Link didn’t even have the Master Sword to bolster his credibility. He may as well be any old Hylian. And the Sheikah, rightfully, didn’t trust Hylians. So they had retreated to this secluded village in the mountains, surrounded by forests and under the protection of the Great Fairy.

The Great Fairy!

“We can get proof.” His eyes widened. “Virtuous Venom is made from Monster Extract combined with essence from a fairy. You said yourself it’s someone in the village. Where more convenient to get a fairy than the Fairy Fountain upon the hill?”

The princess’ eyes lit up, though she clearly wasn’t yet sold. “So they have access to fairies,” she said slowly. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“No, but the Great Fairy Cotera knows when people come to visit her, and she keeps tabs on the people who swipe her fairies.” Like her sisters, Cotera radiated kindness and warmth to an uncomfortable degree, but she had gotten very, very cold to Link when she spotted him trying to scoop up fairies in his quest across Hyrule. “Trust me, I know.”

Zelda’s eyes shone even brighter. “Between that and how difficult fairies are to catch, there must be very few people who make the attempt.”

“Exactly. You have to _really_ want it.”

“And if you already had plans to murder the village elder, a fairy’s speed won’t stop you.”

“Wait!” she exclaimed as she grabbed him by the arm, for he had already turned on his heel to dash away. “We should find a way to record what Cotera says. Backing ourselves up, especially when we’re looking for a murderer, is essential.”

“You’re right, you’re right.” Paya was in no condition for them to ask for parchment and pen. Maybe the innkeeper or the general store owner would be kinder to them, but they would certainly ask more questions. “Maybe we should ask Robbie for some parchment. He’ll likely be the only one we can get through to.”

“Actually, I have a better idea.” She gestured for her to follow him, and together they went back into the manor. Symin and Robbie were sitting upon the cushions on the floor, and Robbie held something in his hands, a mysterious black prism. He dragged the tip of his finger along the surface, forehead wrinkled in concentration.

They looked up when the Hylians entered. “Are you okay, Link?” asked Symin. “I saw you left the ceremony early.”

“I’m fine,” he said shortly. He should have known that mourners would notice his terrified flight from the funeral.

“Robbie, can we see the prototype, please?” Zelda asked. 

“Of course.” Symin beamed and handed it to her. “I am glad Impa had a moment to see it, I’ll admit. She saw that the legacy of the Sheikah is growing.”

“You were here before the funeral?” Link shook himself. “My apologies. I assumed everyone had arrived after the news got out.”

“I was visiting family.” Link could tell that Symin was very tactfully avoiding Robbie’s beady eye.

Zelda thanked him and then said to Link, “As soon as I made it into Kakariko, Purah was showing this off to me. She’s very proud of her apprentice.”

“It only took three years,” said Symin, with a humble smile.

That was an achievement for Purah, Link couldn’t help but notice. Purah was historically chilly to Symin, frustrated with such awful shortcomings as being unable to control the weather. So, yes, three years was quite the turnaround.

Zelda passed the contraption to Link. When he held it, he could see more clearly that it rather resembled the Sheikah Slate, the ancient wonder that Link had carried on his quest to purge Ganon from Hyrule. This was smaller in his hands, and it had four diamond fragments set in the corners of its screen. “What is this?”

“It’s a prototype Sheikah Slate,” the apprentice explained. “Imperfect for now, but functional. The diamonds boost the strength of the runes, which we were able to copy from our Guidance Stone before the light went out. I think one day, we’ll be able to crack the secret to creating all-new runes.”

“Haven’t you already created a new one, though?” Zelda prompted.

“You mean the camera? Oh, no, Your Highness. I’ve merely improved its capabilities.”

Robbie smiled proudly at him. “You’ve extended them far beyond their original purpose. Now you can record sounds and capture whole moments in time on that camera, able to review them at your leisure.”

“Really?” Link looked up at Symin. “I can’t tell you how useful this would have been a few years ago.”

Symin, apparently aware that smiling mere minutes after a funeral would be a faux pas, hid his proud grin by staring at the floor.

Zelda’s lips pursed. “Symin, do you think Link and I can take this for a moment?” she asked carefully. 

Symin’s brow furrowed. “What for? I don’t think the villagers will want anyone thrusting the Slate in their face on a day like this.”

A day like this. For better or for worse, they could use this day as an excuse. “We wanted to capture the view of Impa’s burial,” said Link, surprised at how unsurprised he was when the lie came easily to him. “The still camera just doesn’t do it justice.”

Symin took a breath, and then nodded solemnly. “Go ahead. Just be careful—that’s the only one like it in Hyrule.”

“Of course.” With the prototype Slate in hand, they departed the manor and hurried up the slippery wet pathways through the village, very pointedly avoiding the graveyard. Zelda seemed less than pleased about their methods of acquiring the prototype.

“We should have told them the truth,” she murmured as they climbed the hill.

“Until we have more information,” he replied, “we can’t trust anyone.”

Zelda fell silent as they made it up the hill and turned sharply at the Ta’loh Naeg Shrine, its glow completely absent. The Shrines, as well as the Sheikah Towers and the Divine Beasts, had been dark for months. It was what was best for Hyrule, Link told himself as they dashed up the next incline. Zelda had said it was best for Hyrule.

Link and Zelda ran together through the wet woods, sending the rabbits and a glowing Blupee scattering in their chase. Soon they arrived at the Fairy Fountain, a gargantuan, ever-blooming flower whose pool of water in the center remained still, despite the pouring rain. They climbed upon the mushrooms at the front, and Link called out, “Cotera!”

The forest was silent. Then, two massive hands reached out of the pool and gripped the edges, and a sweet voice said, “Oh?”

Cotera heaved herself out of the pool of the Fountain. She was gorgeous, with a mountain of blonde hair sculpted artfully upon her head and opal jewelry that glistened in the light of the Fountain. With a simpering smile, she said, “Hello, old friend! I see you brought a friend of your own.”

Link bowed his head to Cotera. “Good morning, Cotera.”

“It’s not very good of a morning, is it? Between the rain and…” She gestured one great hand toward the village. “And the funeral in the village.”

Zelda took Symin’s prototype from Link’s hands and pointed it at the Fairy. “That’s why we’re here, actually. Miss Cotera—”

“Please,” she said. “Cotera to friends of Link. My sisters and I have grown quite close with him, have we not?”

“Of course we have.” If she was in a good mood, Link thought, he wouldn’t do anything to depose it. Great Fairies were quite dependable, but their question would bring up a sore subject, anyway. “We’re here on urgent business, though.”

Zelda gestured with her chin to the camera. They were set to begin. “Cotera, do you remember anyone coming here recently to take one of your fairies?” he asked.

Instantly, Cotera’s face darkened and soured. “Yes, it did happen. Some villagers came to me for solace after the elder’s death, but a few took a fairy from this Fountain. How cold of them! I learned to look the other way with you, Link, because who knew when you might need my fairies’ power?”

“Please, Cotera,” Link said. “This is more urgent than you could know.”

“My dear, what’s the trouble?”

“Someone murdered the village elder and used a fairy to do it.”

Cotera gasped. “One of mine? Are you certain?”

“Looks like.”

The Great Fairy’s great brow furrowed. All at once, she became much more business-like, much less welcoming. “Let me think. First was Tissi. I used to catch her sneaking about my Fountain when she was younger, but this was the first time I had seen her in quite a long while. And then that Gerudo woman came. I never learned her name, though she did visit twice (she never caught one the first time). And then the last one.”

Her eyes darkened even further. “Truly, I fail to understand why he would need one. He does not travel anymore, and there are few people more protected than the elders of Hyrule’s peoples, or their spouses.”

Link’s blood ran cold. “Who took the fairy, Cotera?”

Cotera lifted her head high, as though sentencing a villain to death. “It was Rolk, Paya’s fiancé.”


	3. Proceeding with Caution

Link’s mind was churning after they bid the Great Fairy goodbye and made their way back to the village. They had three prime suspects—three people who had the means to kill Impa.

“We have to talk to Paya,” he said to the princess. “Or Purah and Robbie, at least, but Paya would know when this Tissi person came into town. And if she’s a suspect, we have to lock her down.”

“Wait, Link.” Zelda tugged him to a gentle stop near the darkened Shrine, before they could draw any closer to Kakariko and its listening ears. “We should turn this over to the authorities here.”

Link balked. “Kakariko forbids outsiders,” he replied, “which means anyone in the village is a suspect.”

“Their elder was murdered, so it should be their investigation.” She held up the prototype Slate. “We have evidence here. We should turn this over to Paya before we get ahead of ourselves, and we both know you have a habit of rushing into things.”

Suddenly, all his calculations ground to a halt. They were going to do this now? Now, when there was a murderer loose among their most beloved allies? “This isn’t—it’s not about that and you know it.”

“I hope not, for the village’s sake.” She moved closer to him. “We have to consider all the consequences of our actions. I didn’t do that when I shut down the Shrines and the Beasts, and…well, I think it’s fair to say you didn’t do that with me.”

He looked into her eyes, and for a moment she was exactly the princess he’d left behind. Young, hurt, and heartbroken.

Link had thrown himself into Zelda’s efforts to rebuild Hyrule with as much gusto as the princess herself. Strengthening ties with other kingdoms, literally reconstructing Hyrule Castle and Castle Town, collecting the now-freed Guardians and storing them away. It was a big job ahead of them, but they were used to seemingly impossible tasks set before them.

They had shared so much tragedy and so much hardship, and tragedy had a way of bringing people close. It was only a matter of time until one night, in the castle’s newly rebuilt library, Zelda’s hand brushed against his, and suddenly it all fell into place, and his heart fell into her.

He should have known it wasn’t meant to last. But their love was so carefree, so protective, and so strikingly naïve—and when had either of them been afforded the luxury of being naïve!—that the idea of an end seemed laughable. But their end came hurtling toward them, locked on target and traveling faster than the eye could comprehend. They each took a different path to cope with the damage, but neither seemed to work.

The rain was beginning to let up. The residents of Kakariko had withdrawn into their homes. To an outsider, this village would look like a ghost town. Link drew back his hood and said, “I did what I had to.”

Zelda scoffed. “You had to?”

“For both of our sakes.”

“Don’t fool yourself. You did it for yours and yours alone.” Her arms folded and her eyes had hardened again. “And Mipha’s, too, if you’re willing to admit it.”

“Stop it.” The words came out faster and harsher than he intended.

“She was my friend, too!” Zelda exclaimed. “You’re not the only one who mourns her. King Dorephan, Sidon—we all lost her.”

“It’s not the same and you know it.” The wealth of memories had come back to him slowly: fighting the Lynel of Shatterback Point; spending nights in Vah Ruta, only for the water’s chill to make him sick in the morning; the evening she gave him the Zora armor and asked to marry him, and then they day after when she taught him how to swim up waterfalls and he interrupted the lessons with kisses. “We were going to begin a life together. You can’t forget that overnight.”

“Clearly.” Zelda finally looked away from him, blinking rapidly. “My apologies. This is hardly the time. We have much greater concerns.”

He heaved a sigh. She was right about a great many things, but they didn’t have time to examine them all. “You’re right. We should tell Purah and Robbie about what we know, at least, because they might know why someone might have wanted Impa dead.”

Zelda’s lips pursed again, but they made their way back down to Kakariko in silence, climbing the slippery stairs to the manor once again. Robbie and Symin were in the living room, just as before. No sound filtered from the second floor.

They looked up when the Hylians entered. Link was struck with how lifeless Robbie looked. Without the zany goggles or his usual enthusiasm, Robbie hardly seemed himself. Without preamble, Link said, “We have an emergency. One that must remain as contained as possible.”

“An emergency?” Robbie straightened up. “Of what nature?”

“We have reason to believe that Impa was murdered,” said Zelda, as gently as she could. “And that the murderer is someone in Kakariko.”

“So it _was_ Virtuous Venom.” 

All four of them looked and found Paya on the landing of the stairs, with little Purah right beside her.

All the color drained from Zelda’s face. “Paya—”

“I recognized it when I put the flowers in the casket.” She descended the stairs, tears welling in her eyes, which blinked them quickly back. Her face was drawn, but her head was held high. The Sheikah eye painted on her forehead seemed to shine brilliantly. “Did you see it, Link? Is that what this is about?”

Link nodded. “I didn’t realize what I saw until later.”

“I recognized it as soon as I saw it.” She reached the ground floor and gestured to her aunt. “I did not think it prudent to let the murderer know we were onto them, which is why I didn’t say anything. They must have been in attendance—all of Kakariko was. Why do you look so surprised, Link?”

Link hastily snapped his jaw shut and shook himself. “Sorry. Then was the crying—?”

“My sorrows were real,” she said, wiping her eyes again, “if that’s what you mean. But they turned out to be very convenient.”

“My grandniece explained everything to me upstairs,” Purah piped up. “The signs of the Venom. I taught her that, you know.”

“So what do we do?” asked Zelda. “Link and I have done some research on our own, but there is not much more we can do. 

Paya nodded, still with that frown on her face, and then walked over to the dais of pillows Impa used to perch upon. Paya sucked in a breath, and then nodded to herself, reached out, and removed the top two cushions. She set them aside and knelt upon the remaining cushion, hands folded in her lap.

“I am heir to my grandmother’s throne,” Paya said, “which means I am the chief authority of Kakariko Village and of the Sheikah people. And now you have my full cooperation.”

Zelda, though, wasn’t convinced. “Paya, we must warn you that this investigation will be unpleasant. Certain…people have already fallen under suspicion.”

“I don’t think any friendliness with my neighbors will stop me from finding my grandmother’s killer,” Paya replied shortly. Though her face fell and her voice softened as she said, “Unless it’s not just a neighbor.”

Zelda nodded and looked at Link, who explained, “We spoke to the Great Fairy. She told us that Rolk was one of the few who nabbed a fairy from her.”

Paya’s eyes lowered. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

Everyone in the room was listening now. Paya’s fiancé excelled at rubbing people the wrong way, but Link had never heard her speak an ill word about Rolk. In fact, judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, neither had anyone else.

Paya noticed. “It had occurred to me that he would fall under suspicion,” she said hastily. “A well-practiced merchant could find Monster Extract very quickly, I imagine.”

“And we know that he’s one of the three who took a fairy from the Fountain,” Link said, the words souring on his lips. It was one thing to dislike someone, but to improve the case against them to the person who loved them most was quite another. And of all the people in Hyrule to lose a beloved grandmother only to find out their fiancé may have done it, Paya deserved it least.

“Time is of the essence,” said Zelda. “We must round up our suspects and interrogate them.”

“But we must be discreet, too,” said Purah. “We don’t want word to reach our murderer so they can get away.”

“Nor do we want our citizens to be afraid.” Paya reached behind her with one hand and toyed with a lock of her hair, her eyes drifting upward in thought. “Very well, Princess. We will fetch Cado and Dorian. And Rolk will be back any minute.”

“You’re sure about this, Paya?” Robbie asked, looking between her and Link. “No one embalming your grandmother noticed something off.”

“Do you think I’m seeing things, Uncle?”

“Of course not, of course not.” Though Robbie’s eyes were hard and clinical, darting between the Hylians with suspicion. “I am a scientist, remember, and I think applying some healthy skepticism to these claims, which is what they are, is due course. Think of it this way: I’m anticipating the holes our murderer may poke in our argument.”

“My account can be confirmed by the hero of our very land of Hyrule.” Paya tilted her chin up. “If our princess had seen it, we would have had the three most credible witnesses to the Sheikah.”

Robbie scoffed. “Remember, Paya, that Zelda has seen something of a fall from grace with our people.”

“And?” Link butted in. “Did she not spend one hundred years exhausting her powers to protect Hyrule?”

“Link, I did not mean—”

“We know exactly what you meant.” His eyes were full of fire as he said, “Paya and I saw the same thing. That should be enough. There’s no need to dredge up all the business about the Shrines.”

Silence befell the manor. Link knew leaders must make unpopular decisions for the good of all, but he was accustomed to protecting the princess, and was painfully wary of how that decision’s strongest opponents now surrounded her.

The Shrines and the Towers had gone dark, as had the Divine Beasts. The decision had been divisive even when they made it. Zelda saw no other way to control the power of the Guardians than to shut them down. The process had been simple: Zelda merely touched her hand to the Sheikah Slate, which she had begged Purah and Robbie to keep with her in the castle, and poured her sealing magic into it. Link remembered how she thought they would have to travel to each and every Shrine to shut it down, and how fervently he hoped their messengers had reached the Sheikah scientists.

Robbie was first to speak. “Be that as it may, Link,” he said through gritted teeth, “it would be best to have proof other than the testimony of two people. We should be able to see it for ourselves.”

“What are you saying?” Purah asked. “Are you suggesting we dig my younger sister back up? That we bandy her corpse about for the village to see?”

“The soil hasn’t set yet. Now would be the time.”

“Digging her up will alert our enemy!”

“Then should we wait until nighttime?” Zelda proposed. “You’re right, Robbie. Words aren’t enough support for an accusation of murder.”

“We’ve already hung the Chimes!” Purah exclaimed. “We’ve already buried her body and consecrated her grave! And are we really going to put her on display so everyone in the village can verify that foul play was involved?”

Zelda perked up. “I may have a solution. Is Symin’s prototype connected to the Hyrule Compendium?”

Symin shook his head. “I destroyed that functionality in my experimentation.”

“I will be right back.” She darted out of the manor but reappeared in seconds, holding the original Sheikah Slate in triumph.

Purah and Robbie gasped when they saw it. “The Slate!” whispered Purah. “Does it still work?”

“Yes.” Zelda glanced at Link. The Slate hadn’t gone dark as a result of his own protests. We should have an emergency on-switch, just in case. I don’t know what could happen, Zelda, but we shouldn’t destroy ten thousand years of technology over one incident, should we?

“Let me see!” Zelda handed the Slate to Purah, who tapped the screen and then squealed with glee. “The camera function still…functions!”

“With this, we can capture an image of Impa’s lips,” said Zelda, “and then we can re-bury her. Surely the Compendium can verify the diagnosis of poisoning by Virtuous Venom, and I cannot think of a single Sheikah who would not trust the original Sheikah Slate.”

“Nor can I,” Paya said with a relieved smile. “Thank you, Your Highness. Link, if you would, can you please pop outside and fetch Dorian and Cado? They should be brought up to speed. Your Highness, please tell us who your other suspects were. I believe you mentioned several.”

“Of course.” Link went outside and brought the guards of the manor inside, warning them to be appropriately discreet. When he returned, Paya was gazing thoughtfully at Zelda.

“The Gerudo woman’s name is Dria,” said Paya, “and I can vouch for her presence in the village. It is troubling that she, a guest, would capture a fairy from us. However, I did not know Tissi had returned. Did she attend the funeral?” She glanced up, noticed her guards, and said, “Oh, Cado, Dorian, I have a grave manner to discuss with you.”

Paya quickly caught the guards up to speed, fielding their shock and their doubts with ease. “Do either of you know where Tissi is residing?”

“With me,” said Dorian. “I did not realize you were unaware of her presence, my lady. She had arrived her before the funeral.”

Paya’s eyebrows lifted. “She stayed exceptionally well-hidden, then. At any rate, we must fetch these three people and bring them here. Dorian, find Tissi. Cado, you’ll—actually, Link, you should head to the inn. Cado, please find Rolk. He said he was going to fix me a sleeping draft for later tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am.” All three of them departed, filing down the stairs to the grass and moving towards the western side of the village together. But as they drew closer to the gate, Link saw the outline of a Sheikah heading out of Kakariko. Dorian sped up, and Link did, too, and then he realized that the figure was that of the woman he saw with the Charmed Chimes earlier, holding them like a lost treasure.

Dorian hollered, “Tissi!”

The Sheikah woman looked up at them. Her face blanched and she turned and ran, disappearing into the mountain path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy heart day, everyone! Early update bc I'm feeling sick. Let me know what you think in the comments!


	4. Roundup

Link sprang into action, veering sharply toward the cooking pot Koko always hung around and snatching the pot lid lying nearby. That path out of Kakariko was an uphill one, but this was no uphill battle.

Link quickly overtook the sprinting Dorian, who shouted, “Don’t let her pass under the Charmed Chimes!”

The strings of Charmed Chimes appeared in the mountain pass. Tissi looked over her shoulder, eyes widening at her pursuers, and then ran even faster away. As she turned back, Link saw a weapon at her hip, a curved blade bouncing from her belt.

He didn’t even have to think as he threw the pot lid at her, which hit her in the knee, exactly where he’d aimed. Tissi cried out and collapsed right under the Chimes. Her hand reached down to her hip, but Link raced up to her and pinned her hand to the ground, inches from what he could now see was a Vicious Sickle, the chosen weapon for a certain organization in Hyrule.

“You’re Yiga!”

Tissi craned her neck to look at him. “Thank you for making me aware,” she hissed through gritted teeth.

Dorian caught up to them and knelt beside them, gesturing to Link to let go. “She is my charge,” he said as he helped her up. “I can take care of her.”

“I’m not a child!” Together they walked back toward Kakariko, Dorian’s firm hand on Tissi’s arm and her sickle on his hip instead. Tissi kept glancing over her shoulder at the village’s barren paths, but no doors opened and no heads poked out. According to Cado, who met them in Kakariko’s thoroughfare, they ended up making a very quiet fuss.

“Link, I believe it would be best if you sought out Rolk,” said Dorian. “I will take Tissi up to the manor.”

Tissi tugged her arm in Dorian’s grip. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No, you do not,” Dorian retorted, holding fast. He turned back to Link and continued, “Rolk was fixing Paya a draft when he left.”

“I didn’t spot him by the cooking pot.”

“Then he may still be in his shop, or the general store.” Dorian nodded at them and escorted Tissi to the manor, and Link finally started to climb the hill toward Rolk’s shop.

Link had disliked Rolk since their first meeting, when Link and a newly-rescued Zelda visited Kakariko Village. It was a joyful reunion, with Impa the most lively and excited Link had seen her since his awakening from the Shrine of Resurrection. The entire village was overjoyed to see the princess returned to Hyrule. Finally, their service was over!

When Link, Zelda, Impa, and Paya realized they had wasted that night away sharing tales, Impa sent her granddaughter to fetch them some pumpkins to make treats. Olkin was already fast asleep, though there was a Sheikah merchant by the cooking pot, having trouble lighting the fire. Paya helped him start it and he gave her a pumpkin, free of charge. Paya, who had always gotten brutally shy around men, found herself talking easily with him. The merchant’s meal had nearly burned by the time they properly introduced themselves. That merchant’s name was Rolk. 

As Link and Zelda made their visits to Kakariko Village in the service of Hyrule, Rolk became a frequent sight. He said his route coincided with their pilgrimages, but how many times did Impa have to reprimand Paya for slacking off on her chores because she was talking to Rolk? The reprimands got gentler and gentler as time went on, and as Rolk properly moved into Kakariko and set up his own luxury-item shop there. Now, they would have all the time in the world to themselves instead of stealing seconds where they could.

Maybe Link was overstepping his boundaries, but Rolk was always a little too opportunistic for him. He was coarse and brash with anyone who was not Paya, and hardly paid Zelda, Princess of Hyrule, the respect she was due.

Link found Rolk’s shop and went inside. It was respectable, if a little unnecessary. Rolk sold luxury goods from across Hyrule: the prized luminous stones from Zora’s Domain, precious gems from Death Mountain, seeds of the exotic plants of Faron, and even an artistic rendering of the Stalhorse of the Tabantha Snowfield, though that particular ware was bought by Lasli as soon as it hit the shelves. Rolk was behind the counter, rummaging through his trunk.

“Come with me, Rolk.”

Rolk looked up at him, his brilliant green eyes shining against his dark-gray hair. “Excuse me?”

Link’s jaw clenched. “I need you to come with me, Rolk.”

Rolk stood and went to the counter, brushing aside the pile of ancient Guardian parts on the surface. “Champion or not, you don’t tell me what to do. That right is reserved for my fiancée.”

“It’s your fiancée who asked you to bring you to her,” he hissed. “And you’re not in much of a position to be giving orders.”

Rolk frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Impa was murdered, and evidence is pointing to you.”

A change came over Rolk. Link watched the news sink into him like the sun setting, shock sweeping over his face. “You’re not serious.” Rolk’s arms went limp at his sides. “Murdered? And you think I had something to do with it?”

Link was getting irritated by his procrastination. “If you don’t come with me right now, I’m going to have to bring you by force.”

“With what weapon?” Nonetheless, he opened the door in the counter and slid through. Link grasped his arm and Rolk put up a struggle, but his grip remained firm. 

“Paya’s waiting.”

Rolk stopped struggling, and they started walking. “Does she…what evidence do you supposedly have?”

“That’s between you and your fiancée.”

Together they marched down the path and back to the manor. The rain had stopped by now, as all the rainclouds of the morning had gathered in the living room of the manor. Inside, Purah, Symin, Robbie, and Zelda stood beside Paya on her cushion. Dorian and Cado were guarding their two suspects, Tissi and the Gerudo woman Link had met in the inn, who were kneeling before Paya.

“Thank you, Link,” Paya said. “Rolk, please kneel.”

Rolk finally tore his arm from Link’s hand as he knelt. “Is what Link said true? Did someone really bear ill will toward your grandmother?”

Tissi’s jaw dropped, but the Gerudo woman—Dria, Link remembered—remained impassive. A softening of the face, maybe, but fractional at most. Paya’s lip quivered, but she turned to her aunt and family friend. 

“Aunt Purah, Uncle Robbie, I must ask you to leave. You, too, Princess Zelda.”

The Sheikah balked. “You would not have me present during this investigation?” spat Purah. “If Impa’s death is in question, I have the right to know!”

“And why should Link remain?”

“Please, auntie,” she whispered. “It’s best if as few people witness this as possible. Symin will handle his prototype; Link will remain because he is a knight of Hyrule, and they were trained to protect and deal justice. I think that expertise will become useful.”

Link couldn’t meet the Sheikah’s eyes. It had been a long time since he thought of himself as a knight of Hyrule, and by the look on Purah’s face, she hadn’t, either.

“Very well. Come, Robbie.” She stormed out with Robbie in tow, Zelda following graciously behind.

Paya took a deep breath and returned to addressing the suspects. “For those of you just joining us, that is why we are here. The circumstances of my grandmother’s death have been called into question.”

“Do you really think I could have done this?” Rolk interrupted, voice quivering. “Me, knowing what her death would do to you?”

“Maybe you couldn’t,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean you didn’t have reason to. And we both know you had reason to.”

Link’s ears perked up, but Paya showed no signs of elaborating. “My grandmother Impa was murdered with the aid of a fairy. You three are here because the Great Fairy Cotera observed you at her Fountain, trying to catch a fairy.”

“Is that all we’re here for?” Dria’s voice was low, yet fiery. “Because a Great Fairy said so?”

“What reason would she have to lie about who she saw?” Paya shot back.

“Godly fickleness?”

“Cotera has looked after Kakariko Village for ages.” Paya ran her hand through her silvery hair. “We only mean to ask you all a few questions. If you have nothing to hide, you will be free to go. Symin, if you please.”

Symin nodded and pulled out his prototype Sheikah Slate. “My aunt’s apprentice was able to expand the capabilities of the Sheikah runes,” Paya explained, glancing at Symin, who seemed to be holding back a proud smile. “And we can now record your statements word for word.”

He tapped the screen and then held the prototype toward the suspects. “Ready, Paya.”

“Excellent.” Paya straightened up, her stare landing on Tissi. “Let us begin.”


	5. Six Months Ago

_“You shouldn’t have forgotten your cloak, Princess.”_

_A shivering Zelda looked over at him astride her horse, a little smile on her face, which was framed with wet locks of golden hair. “I’m fine, Link. We’re almost home, anyway.”_

_Hyrule Castle was looming closer and closer. The rain had started to fall only after they finally left Necluda, and only then did Zelda realize she had left her cloak with her friends in Kakariko. It was just a little mist, and the castle was only a day’s ride. She insisted she’d be fine._

_Link guided his horse up alongside hers, a stunt he had mastered, and unhooked the clasp of his own cloak. He leaned over and draped it over the princess, to immediate protests. “No, Link, truly, I’m all right!” she said, despite immediately snuggling into its warmth. “You shouldn’t have.”_

_“I still serve my princess,” he replied with a wink, though with the chill now creeping in, he suspected it looked more jittery than confident. “However she needs me.”_

_“I’d say you do a little more than serve.” Zelda flashed him a coy smile, though her blush gave her away._

_And suddenly a flashing red dot appeared on her cheek._

_Link spun around in the saddle and found a Guardian, a six-legged mechanical monster that had trained its eye on Zelda, climbing over a knoll. Its powerful, telescoping legs scrambled over the grass, eager to get a better shot at its target._

_“Get out of here!” Link leaped off his horse and pulled the Master Sword from its sheath upon his back, racing toward the Guardian. The divine light within the blade of evil’s bane shone brighter and brighter as he neared it. In his quest to save Hyrule, he had grown strong enough to take down the Guardians with a few slashes of the Master Sword._

_Link slashed at the Guardian once, twice, three times. He carved off one of the mechanical legs and sent it wriggling away into the grass, but was caught by surprise when another leg hit him in the stomach and swept him off his feet. The darkness-sealing sword rolled out of his hand and slid down the hill. The Guardian, which had turned its eye on its attacker, locked its sights on the golden-haired princess running towards it, casting off the borrowed cloak with one hand and holding her other palm out._

_“It’s okay, Link!” Zelda called to him. Her hand began to glow, but the Guardian’s eye blinked, and blue light shot out of it._

_“Zelda!”_

 

**Present Day**  
Dria was sitting cross-legged before Paya, looking indignantly around at the attendees of the tribunal. That’s exactly what this is, Link realized. It’s a military tribunal. A trial of expedience and severity.

“Paya, you were there the first time I met your grandmother,” she said. “A year ago, when I had wandered up the hill on my way to Zora’s Domain. You and your grandmother were kind to me and allowed me to stay in your village for a night. That was the only time I met Impa.”

“Why are you here now?” Link asked.

“Because she asked me to come,” Dria replied, pointing at Paya. “I am a sculptor who works with luminous stone. Paya commissioned my services.”

“This is true,” Paya said, speaking toward Symin’s prototype. “Weeks ago, I contacted Dria and commissioned her to create a…”

Paya sighed. “It was meant to be a tribute to my grandmother’s century of dedication to the royal family and to Hyrule. Though her death changed that.”

“I was stopping here to touch base with Paya days before Impa’s death.” She toyed with a bulbous sapphire which hung on a gold string around her neck. “And when, to put it kindly, circumstances changed, she asked me if I would consider staying on to sculpt a memorial for her.”

Symin fixed his gaze on Paya. “Is this true?”

“Yes. And, Dria, you were very gracious to agree.”

Dria’s eyes narrowed. “You should know that the Gerudo do not tolerate mistreatment. When I was leaving—”

“Right as we apprehended you,” Cado remarked gruffly.

“I was leaving to see to a shipment of luminous stone due to arrive at a stable up north.” Dria’s words cut through the air and into the guts of listeners. “I have a perfectly sound reason to have left this village I am not welcome in, anyway.”

“And you will be free to go,” Paya said, “as soon as you tell us why you took a fairy from our Fairy Fountain.”

Dria’s fist clenched. “Have I not sufficiently proven my innocence?”

“If you’re innocent,” Link asked, taking great care to remain neutral, “why not tell us what you were doing there?”

“I wanted a fairy as a souvenir!” 

“You have a Great Fairy Fountain in your own desert.”

“That is hidden far in the hottest zones of the desert!” She pounded the floor with her fist. “Is that enough for you?”

Paya nodded. “Yes, that is enough—as long as you can produce the fairy. Cado, please escort her back to the inn and search her belongings.”

“Excuse me!” Dria shot to her feet, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling. “I have done nothing wrong, and you have nothing to suspect me of!”

“Dria, this is my grandmother’s cold-blooded murder.” Paya’s voice was quiet and soft, but her eyes were as hard as diamonds. “I refuse to take mere words as ironclad proof from someone who has already admitted to transgressing our policy regarding our Fairy Fountain. If you cannot produce the fairy, you will not be allowed to leave the village.”

Dria stared down at her in silence, but Paya didn’t flinch. Finally, she said, “You are fierce like a Gerudo, but ferocity not contained with technique or discipline is just cruelty. You’ll do well to remember that.”

Dria turned on her heel and marched out of the manor, Cado hurrying after her through the swinging doors. Paya turned to Tissi, whose defensive bravado now lay in dust at her feet.

 

**One Hundred Years Ago**

_Castle Town was engulfed in flames and crawling with Guardians. Once the strong protectors of Sheikah making, the indominable warriors that would stand against the Calamity had been possessed by Ganon and turned against the very people they were supposed to protect._

_So had Hyrule Castle. The columns Zelda had idly wondered about had sprouted from the ground, releasing more haunted Guardians and aiding Ganon’s invasion of the Hylian stronghold. Zelda’s father, King Rhoam, was already gone._

_But the forces of light still had a chance. They had the Divine Beasts and the excellent Champions who piloted them. They had the sword that seals the darkness. They didn’t have Zelda’s sealing power, but Link and the other Champions were well-equipped to lock Ganon away on their own._

_Link charged up the main street of Castle Town. Zelda ran beside him, still in her ceremonial gown from her prayer at the Spring of Wisdom. Had they really begun the day at the Spring of Wisdom? The morning at Mount Lanayru felt so far away, like it had happened in entirely another reality._

_They reached the fountain in Castle Town’s square. Up ahead was the path to Hyrule Castle, swarmed with Guardians and lorded over by Calamity Ganon. Four red beams were trained on the castle, originating from every far corner of Hyrule. Their friends were ready to play their part._

_“Link!” Zelda cried out. “Link, I don’t have the sealing magic. I can’t—there’s no use!”_

_He shrugged her off and drew his sword. “We have to act.”_

_He raced up the path to Hyrule Castle, staring Ganon down, when suddenly the red beam from the west swung away from the castle._

_Link skidded to a stop, bewildered, and watched the path of the bouncing beam. He could barely see the Gerudo Highlands from here, but Vah Naboris was picking up from the plateau and marching away. Zelda followed his eyes and sucked in a breath. “What is she doing?”_

_“Could she be coming to join us?” Link glanced up at the gargantuan Vah Medoh who was orbiting over the castle. The Rito’s Divine Beast had the luxury of being much more mobile than the others._

_“She can’t! Vah Naboris draws power from the heat in the ground.” Zelda pulled out the Sheikah Slate and peered through its scope. Through it, they caught a glimpse of Naboris’ eyes, which had turned a bright pink. Just like the possessed Guardians!_

_“No!” But there was no time for her to mourn. Link watched as Medoh and Vah Rudania, the indominable Beast of the Gorons, each fell to the same fate, the former banking hard and leaving Hyrule Field while the latter climbed down from Death Mountain. And then far to the east, in Zora’s Domain…_

_“Hey!” Link paid the princess no mind as he wrested the Sheikah Slate from her and trained its scope on Zora’s Domain. He could barely see Vah Ruta’s tusks, but the beam emanating from them remained locked on the castle. The Zora Champion was inside, his Champion, the Champion who held his heart in her hands._

_“Get out of there, Mipha,” he whispered. The Champions had been trained well, and they had their orders: do not abandon the Beasts or the mission unless absolutely necessary. Daruk had insisted upon such strict orders himself. Mipha was an excellent fighter, but so was Urbosa, who had fallen first._

_He and Mipha were going to marry, and she would take the Zora throne. They would spend their days in the Domain, ruling quietly and mercifully after the Calamity and ensuring no disaster struck Hyrule again. They’d find a way around Muzu, her close-minded tutor, and watch her baby brother grow up. They had so much to do together._

_Suddenly, Ruta sank into the lake, and the last beam disappeared._

_“No!” Link screamed. Ganon had taken everything! He took the Guardians and the Beasts, and used them to kill countless Hylians, the king, and the Champions! He and Zelda were the last hope, but what hope did they have when every ally that wasn’t dead had turned against them?_

_Zelda quietly drew up to him, her hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, but we have to go.”_

_They had to go. They had to keep living, and for what? For more fiancées to die, for Hyrule to crumble?_

_He looked up at Zelda, her round eyes full of tears. “Mipha would want you to finish the job, wouldn’t she?”_

_So he climbed to his feet, took Zelda’s hand, and fled with her from Castle Town. They dodged the Ganon-controlled Guardians and made a break for Necluda, where they stood a chance at Fort Hateno. Link struck at any Guardian in their path, lopping of a leg or two to buy them time. Nowhere was safe, not when those things crawled across Hyrule unchecked._

 

**Present Day**

Silence had fallen over the manor. All eyes were trained on Tissi, who couldn’t lift her eyes from the floor, though Link noticed Dorian getting more and more fidgety by the moment.

Symin spoke up first. “So when did we start letting Yiga slip into our village?”

“Please,” said Dorian, stepping forward. “She is a family friend, my lady.”

“And an acolyte of the organization who would murder Link where he stood!” Paya retorted. “Surely poisoning my grandmother would go a long way to revitalizing Calamity Ganon again.”

“I’m not a Yiga anymore!” Tissi retorted. “I left them. I’m gone.”

“Then why do you still have their blade?”

“Because if they find me, they’ll kill me!” Tissi wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s the blade they trained me in. It’s how I can defend myself best.”

“Forgive me,” Dorian said to a very stoic Paya. “She made the choice to defect from the Yiga, and I felt it was my duty to our people to assist her.”

Symin fixed Dorian with a stony eye. “You know the rules about bringing Yiga into the village. They’re why we have the Charmed Chimes.”

“She is no threat when they hang!” he pleaded. “She left the Yiga of her own accord and needed a place to stay, at least until she got on her feet again. I acted with compassion.”

Paya’s lips pursed, and she remained silent for a long while. When she eventually spoke, the room could hear every measured breath, every beat of her heart. “You felt comfortable with her around your daughters?”

Dorian gave her a tight nod. “Yes, I did.”

“Why did you run, Tissi?” Link asked. Her head lifted again, and he could see the same jitter in her eyes that Dorian had. “When we called out to you, why did you run away?”

“Because I turned and found the Hylian Champion staring me down,” she hissed. “If you had an axe to grind, I didn’t want to feel its edge.”

“Why were you leaving?”

“I needed space.”

“Space from the safest place for you?”

“Space from the funeral.” Tissi stared daggers at the jurors. “It was so overwhelmingly Sheikah, and you all made it overwhelmingly clear that Sheikah shouldn’t welcome former Yiga back.”

“It’s always occurred to me that we could act with a little more compassion towards the Yiga.” Paya fixed Symin with a severe stare as she said, “They were Sheikah once, and they will be, if they want to commit to leaving the Yiga. But this is a discussion for a later time.”

Paya turned back to Tissi and asked, “Why did you take a fairy from the Fountain? You of all people should know not to cross the Great Fairy.”

“Because…” Tissi turned and looked up at Dorian. “Because his daughter had burned herself at the cooking pot, and he was speaking to Impa about something or other. A fairy could heal her injury and make it look like nothing happened."

Dorian’s face fell. “You told me nothing of this.”

“What was I supposed to do?” she said to him. “You opened your home to me, you trusted me around your kids, and that happens? You’re kind, and I am grateful beyond the boundaries of Hyrule for it, but I didn’t want to be turned out.”

“You thought I wouldn’t understand? Me, of all people?”

Tissi folded in on herself, weighed down by shame. “Koko got hurt for the five minutes you left her in my care. I thought you would do what any Sheikah would.”

“So the fairy is gone.” Paya sat back. “You cannot prove your intentions.”

“My lady, may I suggest something?” She nodded, and Dorian continued, “If she’s telling the truth, my daughter can corroborate her story. If she was injured, she will say so.”

“Good thinking.” She looked back at Tissi, and asked, “Any objections?”

Tissi shook her head, staring at the floor. “No.”

“Very well. Dorian, we will speak to your daughter at a later time. For now, though,” said Paya to a just-returned Cado, “Cado, if you would, please confiscate the Yiga weapon, escort Tissi back to Dorian’s home, and keep watch there.”

“House arrest?” Tissi said, rising to her feet. Cado took the sickle and safely ensconced it in a nearby drawer as she continued, “But that artisan was free to go!”

“She proved her innocence summarily. Dorian, you will remain with Tissi.”

Dorian’s face fell, but he only gave her a curt, “Yes, my lady,” and left with their suspect and her guard.

Paya sighed and looked at the last remaining suspect, who had been surprisingly quiet over the whole affair. “I want nothing more than to exonerate you, too, my love,” she said, “but I cannot. It would be wrong for me to lead your questioning, which is why, Link, I would like you to step in.”

Link gave a jolt, as though he were eavesdropping on the conversation instead of participating n it. “Of course, Paya.”

“Thank you.”

He moved closer to Rolk and sat down before him. “Let’s begin.”

 

**Six Months Ago**

_“What do you mean, there’s nothing else to do but wait?”_

_The physician looked bravely at Link, who had the sense that he was not the first worried next of kin to lash out at him. “The medicine is taking effect, and she needs quiet and rest. Patience can be more potent than any elixir in Hyrule.”_

_Link dismissed the royal physician and sat back down at Zelda’s side. Really, it was admirable on his part to come to the Riverside Stable so quickly, but to hear that nothing short of time would heal the princess? After time had ravaged their land? After she had spent so much of it in Ganon’s clutches?_

_All he could do was wait, so he waited at her bedside, cursing the loss of Mipha’s healing magic. The Champions’ powers had vanished after vanquishing Ganon, because the Champions had finished their worldly business._ Mipha, why couldn’t you stay?

_He took Zelda’s hand and clutched it in both of his. He wanted desperately to have another go at that Guardian, to massacre it and ensure it would never hurt anyone again. But there was one priority after Zelda had been hit with its devastating beam: get her to safety. So the Guardian roamed free._

_This pain was familiar. He had felt so much loss as his memories returned, but this cut most deeply of all of them, because he was at her side when she got hurt. He was there, and she had fallen anyway!_

_She hadn’t fallen yet, he reminded himself. And she wasn’t across Hyrule. She was right at his side._

_He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t lose anyone else, least of all this princess who had captured his heart, saved his life, and given him something to live for again. He had lost his reason to live with Mipha—was that why he fell that day? Did he give up because without Mipha, there was nothing waiting on the other end of the Calamity?_

_For better or worse, he could not survive another loss. Maybe someday he would, but if the goddesses insisted on taking everything from Link, or on hurting Zelda, as they had proven they love to do, he was not strong enough to lose everything._

_How does one prevent the ache of loss? By casting off the thing you’re afraid of losing yourself, Link realized. He had to choose to let go of everything._

_His everything lay in the stable bed._

_Link got up and went outside, to get a breath of night air. The clouds had dispersed and the stars shone brightly in the night, like Hyrule was at peace. Like Ganon had never happened._

_He could just leave now, he knew. Maybe he could leave a message with the stable owner and take off into the night. But he still had a duty to the throne and to the princess, so he would wait until she was well again, escort her to Hyrule Castle, and then part ways with her. It was high time he put the Master Sword back. Soldiers lost people, knights lost people, and he was the only Champion left not to lose his own life. Perhaps, with the Master Sword safely entombed in the Korok Forest, he could stop being protector of Hyrule, and he could keep the little he had left._

_Let someone else take up the sword that seals the darkness. Let someone else carry the burden._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh. I figured I have all this pre-written already, so I may as well start rolling it out sooner, right?


	6. The Interrogation of Rolk

Another Calamity could have descended upon Hyrule, but Link rather thought it couldn’t penetrate the silence in the room. Rolk, Paya’s beloved, stood accused of murdering Impa, and their only other suspects had already been cleared.

“Are you sure you want to see this?” Link looked over his shoulder at Paya. She had already seen so much, and yet she seemed determine to soldier on.

Paya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “As elder of the village, it is my responsibility to preside over the questioning. And it is also my responsibility to divulge certain details.”

“Details?” Comprehension dawned on Rolk’s face. “Paya, that had nothing to do with this!”

Link pounced. “What is he talking about?”

Paya took another deep breath, to steady the slight quiver in her lip. “When we announced our engagement to my grandmother, she thought…”

“She didn’t approve of us.” Rolk’s gaze was on the floor. “She wanted her great-grandchildren to wear our Sheikah eye, I’m sure.”

“The eye is more ceremonial than anything,” she explained. “Aunt Purah and Uncle Robbie have forgone theirs.”

“It wasn’t the eye, it was what it represented,” Rolk said. A muscle began to jump in his jaw. “Impa felt that to properly serve the Sheikah, one must be able to wear the Sheikah eye. One must be a pure Sheikah.”

Paya’s hand darted up to her forehead, as though she could rub away the sacred design in one go, but then she dropped it. “I thought she was going to come around sooner or later. After all, our own dwindling numbers have made it necessary to marry non-Sheikah.” 

“If I may,” Symin interrupted, his own Sheikah eye practically glowing to Link now, “that is the very reason she believed it was so important. So few of us have been raised with an understanding of the ways of the Sheikah, so how many can effectively guide our people?”

“In any case,” said Link, who had the inclination that the others in the room had forgotten he was official inquisitor of this interview, “Impa believed you weren’t a fit match for Paya. Tell us why you went to the Fairy Fountain.”

“Paya was upset when Impa refused to give us her blessing,” he explained. “I caught and bottled a fairy so she could keep it in her room. Fairies bring such a comforting, peaceful feeling that I thought it might cheer her up.”

“But I didn’t want it,” said Paya, “so I asked him to get rid of it.”

“What did you do with it?”

Rolk nodded to Symin. “I asked him to set it free.”

Symin’s eyes widened. “You didn’t.”

All eyes turned to Symin, including Rolk, who said, “Yes, I did.”

“You most certainly didn’t.” The apprentice shook his head and even inched away from Rolk, his eyes locked on him. “You never gave me a fairy, ever.”

“You’re lying!” Rolk stood, but Link stepped between him and Symin. 

“Be careful,” Link warned. “You’re in a precarious enough position. Getting aggressive won’t help.”

“Aggressive? I’m innocent!” He turned to Paya. “Please, my love, you have to believe me!”

Paya stood, too, though she made no move toward her fiancé. “I don’t have that luxury.”

“You really think I would kill your grandmother?” he begged. “You said you thought she was going to come around, and you told me so! And I was willing to wait for that because you, my heron, are the love of my life, and I’ll wait for anything to marry you!”

“Stop!” Tears ran down the Sheikah elder’s face. “Symin, will you please head outside and bring two more Sheikah guards? You may have to knock on some doors.” 

“I’m innocent! You know I couldn’t do this!” Rolk pleaded as Symin beat a hasty retreat, leaving the prototype Slate with Link. “I could never do anything to hurt you or your grandmother!”

“Link, I must ask you to remain where you are until the guards are finished searching Rolk’s shop.” She fixed Rolk with a deadly stare as tears poured down her cheeks.   
“You were here. You stayed in our home. She was like a sitting duck for you, wasn’t she?”

“Paya!” Rolk jolted forward, but Link shoved him back by the shoulders. “Don’t touch me!”

“You don’t call the shots around here!” Link reached over his shoulder for his weapon but grasped at the empty air where the hilt of the Master Sword should be, and Rolk seized his opportunity.

He boxed Link’s ears, the thunderous echo bouncing around the inside of the Hylian’s skull, and then elbowed him in the stomach sharply enough to knock him off his feet. Before Link could cry out, his assailant turned on his heel and ran out the door.

Link launched himself to his feet and was racing out the door. Rolk had already disappeared, the paths of Kakariko were barren, and the rain of the morning had returned. The Charmed Chimes clacked together in the wind.

“Zelda!” The princess turned at the sound of her name, warming her hands at the cooking pot’s fire. “Where did Rolk go?”

“Rolk?” High upon the hill, Cado watched her hurry over to Link. “I didn’t see him! Did he leave town?”

Link bolted down the path, passing by Dria as she popped her head out of the inn. How could Rolk have gotten so far? Merchants were hardy, sure, but lithe and quick?   
The Sheikah weren’t known for athleticism, but for their ability to cloak themselves.

Paya had once pointed out to Link the Stamella Shrooms that grew under her grandmother’s manor, in the crawlspace between the manor’s floor and the ground. They liked to grow around the stilts planted in the grass, favoring shade instead of sun.

Link stopped short. Rolk hadn’t gone far at all. He had merely worked with what he had!

The hero spun around. Rolk, filthy after crawling out from under the house, was running for the path to the Shrine. “There!”

Link set off after him, in the proper direction this time, while the onlookers’ gazes followed him. Rolk was a pretty slight Sheikah, which lent him speed, and he had an agility to him Link hadn’t clocked before. Rolk was quite a formidable foe.

Link made it to the Shrine right as Rolk turned the corner, heading towards the Fairy Fountain. Did he think he could lose him in the woods? What was his plan here?

He slipped on a wet patch of grass and slid back down the hill, but he scrambled up and powered on, his palms and knees aching. He just reached the top of the hill and had thrown himself into the thickening vegetation when suddenly, an agonized scream cut through the sound of rain and the pounding of Link’s heart.

“By Hylia’s grace!” he murmured to himself, fighting through the brush. He reached the clearing the Fairy Fountain sat in as Cotera burst out from the pond, looking around in fright. 

At the foot of the Fountain lay Rolk’s body. His severed head had rolled a few feet away.


	7. The Amber Tomb

Link bolted toward the Fountain. _“Cotera!”_ he called out. “Do something! Save him!”

“Link,” Cotera said helplessly, watching him pick up Rolk’s head and place it near his neck. He tried to align bone with bone, muscle with muscle, but Link’s hands were shaking and the cut wasn’t clean and the water was getting into the wound. “I don’t know if he can be helped.”

“Link!” That was Zelda, running towards him from the forest. 

“Stay back, princess!” he shouted, but it was too late. She had already drawn up to him and seen the horrific sight.

“By Hylia,” she whispered. “The fairies! There must be something we can do if we act quickly!”

“Not even my sisters and I are that powerful,” the Great Fairy said. “We cannot undo damage this grave.”

More footsteps arrived, and this time Symin appeared from the brush and hurried towards them. He, too, gasped at the gruesome scene at his feet. “Who did this?”

“We didn’t see anyone,” said Link. “Cotera, surely, there must be something we can do!”

"My Sheikah Slate can help!" exclaimed Symin. "Champion, do you still have my prototype?

“And if we need time,” said Symin, “my Sheikah Slate can help! Champion, do you still have my prototype with you?”

“I do,” said Link, who had carelessly hung it on his belt as he rushed out. He handed it over to Symin.

“I was able to push the Stasis rune’s limits,” he explained. “Now it can preserve multiple figures, and for minutes at a time.”

"And with the help of my fairies," Cotera offered, "we may be able to keep him alive!"

“That might be enough protection until we can take him to the Shrine of Resurrection!" Link looked to Symin. "Can it be done?”

"Certainly."

“Symin, you need to break the charm and recast it." Zelda looked at Link. "Do your best to realign Rolk’s…parts. Hurry!”

Link darted to Rolk's head and grabbed it, placing it above the stump that used to be his neck. When he aligned Rolk’s head as closely as he could, Cotera waved her massive hand, and an entire swath of fairies descended into his stomach. "Now, Symin!" 

Symin aimed and triggered the Stasis rune again. Bright yellow chains appeared in thin air, capturing the remains in a magical stillness. At once, Link saw their folly: they had preserved him, but he would not heal.

"It won't be enough." He looked at the princess, who was frowning deeply. "We'll only preserve remains. If we keep him like this, the fairies won't be able to heal him!"

Zelda gasped suddenly, eyes going wide. “Wait! Long ago, I read of other uses of the royal family’s sealing magic, far back in the royal records. It spoke of an ancient princess who was able to seal herself away with it and protect herself.”

"I heard of the legend," Symin said, brow furrowed. "Do you think it can work on others? Your Highness, if I may be so bold, without practice, we may find a way to worsen his condition."

Zelda extended her arms, hands held palm out. "What choice have we?"

Gold light washed out from the wound and swept over Rolk’s remains, eventually lifting them off the ground. The light wound around him, binding head and neck and solidifying around him. The bright gold expanded and cooled into a massive chunk of amber, through which they could see Rolk’s remains. 

Link drew closer when the light died. Zelda's last-ditch effort had succeeded in reattaching head to neck. The fairies’ light glowed softly within the amber. With a long, exhausted sigh, Zelda said, “I think he’s stable for now.”

Link finally took a breath, only realizing then he hadn’t breathed for the entirety of the incident. “Cotera, thank you,” said Link. “Without your power, we would have lost him.”

“Without the princess' quick thinking, my power would have meant nothing.” Cotera’s eyes were trained on their patient, brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I had no idea what was happening. All I sensed were two people, and then a sudden act of violence. It was all so fast.”

“You didn’t see who did this?” They were never fast enough. They didn’t see who tried to kill Rolk, and they couldn’t catch Rolk when he tried to run. Their killer was always one step ahead.

“Princess Zelda! Link!” That was Robbie, and when he turned, Link found the diminutive scientist at the edge of the clearing. He raced toward the Fairy Fountain, freezing when his eyes alit on the amber. “I heard the commotion—what in Hyrule happened?”

“We found him here,” Link explained. “Horribly injured.”

“But our princess here figured out how to save him.” Cotera nodded, beaming proudly at the Hylians. “The goddess’ sealing magic is not meant be reserved for destroying Ganon.”

“It’ll keep him alive until we bring him to the Shrine of Resurrection.” Zelda rested a hand on the amber tomb. “It may be a while, but he’s going to be okay.”

A relieved smile rose to Symin’s face as the effect of their actions truly sank in. “The last thing we need around here is more death.”

“Especially not one so close to Paya.” Robbie bowed to Cotera. “Thank you, Great Fairy. Kakariko Village owes you a great debt.”

“All I ask is that you put a stop to the violence quickly.” Cotera ran a hand through her billows of white-blonde hair. “Please be careful. If you are hurt but can act quickly, I will help you. And when my fairies return to me tomorrow, please come up and take one, for your own safety.”

“Kakariko thanks you profusely,” Robbie said again. With one last relieved “Farewell!” Cotera disappeared into her pond.

Robbie, opened his mouth to speak, but Link cut across him. “Where were you?”

He balked. “You don’t think I could have done this, do you? Do you know me at all?”

“I know that I didn’t see you in the village while I chased Rolk up here.” His voice was flat. “And I know that if Symin had attacked him, the last thing on he would do is contribute to the rescue. So where were you, Robbie?”

“I was with Purah.”

“Where?”

“That’s none of your concern! You think I could attack him at my stature?”

“You’ve created how many Ancient weapons?” he replied smoothly. “I know you must have one on you, because I know your wife wouldn’t let you travel alone without one. And if you don’t want to tell me where you were, then you should hand it over to me now to improve your own case.”

Robbie stared hard at Link, fuming to the tips of his ears, until he marched up to Link and pulled out a hilt made of the mysterious ancient Sheikah material that so many of their wonders had been constructed from. He gave it to Link, who flourished it in the air; a glowing blue light burst into being, forming a sharp, yet weightless blade.

“You had an Ancient Sword on you all this time?” Symin asked, eyes wide.

“The roads of Hyrule have not gotten any less treacherous.” He gave Link a dirty look. “You’re right. My wife insisted I bring it with me.”

Link’s eyes narrowed. He remembered picking these up on his travels. Ancient weapons were powerful, yet delicate, though they were much easier to keep clean. He could run an Ancient Sword through a whole wave of Bokoblins, yet the blade would be spotless the next time he drew it.

Zelda was first to break the silence. “Paya needs to know what happened,” she said, brushing the wet hair from her eyes. “By Hylia’s grace. First Impa, and now Rolk.”

“Paya is strong,” Symin said. “Much stronger than we give her credit for, I think.”

Robbie nodded and gestured for them to move to the edge of the clearing. “Her conduct is that of a born leader,” he said as Zelda walked towards him, “and I will admit, I had my reservations about her efficacy as she grew up. Certainly not after today.”

Zelda and Robbie moved toward the forest, but Link hadn’t moved a muscle. “Link?”

“I think it’s wise to stay at the Fountain,” he said. “The murderer may return.”

“No weapon will penetrate that shell,” said Zelda, head held high. “I’m sure of it.”

“I know. But if they see you climbing down the hill, they may wonder if we have done anything to the body, or why you’re not carrying it with you.”

Zelda moved back toward Link and the golden coffin. “You won’t be safe here alone. I should stay with you.”

“No, Paya should hear the whole story from someone, and you were on the scene almost as soon as I was.”

“Almost.” Zelda’s fists clenched at her sides. Her voice sounded soft, but he recognized the hard edge in it as she said, “If that’s your argument, then you should be the one telling Paya what happened."

“I shall stay, too.” Symin looked at Zelda and said, “You’re right, Your Highness. We shouldn’t leave anyone on their own with a murderer on the loose. And I do not think Paya would want to hear the news from me.”

Zelda's eyes remained on him a moment longer. “Be safe.” Then she and Robbie made their way back into the forest. 

Perhaps it was selfish to recuse himself from what they were about to do, but Link didn’t have sympathy to spare, and Paya deserved nothing but sympathy today. He was at war with a murderer in Kakariko Village, and they had been on the completely wrong track the entire time.

Link turned and looked at Symin, who was gazing down at the amber casket. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen quicker thinking,” he said to the Sheikah, his silvery hair darkening in the rain. “Purah knows how to pick her apprentices.”

Symin shrugged. “We work with the runes of the Slate every day,” he said. “My first instinct is always to turn to them for help.”

“That’s a good instinct.” Link idly waved the Ancient Sword in his hands. Once upon a time, he had shared that absolute trust in Sheikah technology. “When lives are on the line, all you should trust are your instincts.”

Symin paused and turned to him, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “We scientists are taught not to trust our gut, you know. You’re the first to tell me otherwise.”

“Then you haven’t had a knight’s education.” Link expertly rolled the handle of the Ancient Sword over his palm. It may have looked like he was showing off, but he was happy to finally have a sword in hand. Did it make him a barbarian to have missed the pommel against his palm?

“I haven’t.” Symin sighed, taking off his spectacles and trying to wipe them on his robe, only to realize that there wasn’t a dry inch of cloth to be had. “Though I suppose on days like it, that education is a blessing.”

“Well.” Link put away the blade. “It comes in handy time to time, but I hoped with Ganon gone, I wouldn’t ever need to be a knight again.”

“That’s interesting.” Symin turned to him, fixing him with a blank, absorbing stare. “A knight is a rather honorable thing. To those of us who haven’t earned that honor, at least.”

“There’s a lot you lose to earn it.” Peace, innocence, and a death of old age. It was thanks to the brilliance of the Sheikah that he had another chance at dying naturally of old age.

Symin, finally realizing he’d overstepped his boundaries, turned away and looked at the forest. “I think I remember Paya saying the same thing a few years ago.”  
Link’s ears pricked up again. “Know her for a long time?”

“When you grow up in the same little mountain pass, you get to know your neighbors very well. She, Impa, and I were speaking about how she introduced me to Purah. It was the first time since my mentor had visited Kakariko in decades, and the Sheikah Slate was being passed around all these new pairs of eyes. Well, it would have, if not—"

“Wait a minute.” Link turned to him. “Purah was here before Impa died?”

Symin furrowed his brow. “Yes, and Robbie, too. Paya had invited us up. I didn’t know you hadn’t known. That makes her a suspect, doesn't it!”

“Robbie, too.”

Symin swallowed hard. “Do you really think either of them could have done it?”

“Maybe.” Family bonds could be the strongest in Hyrule, but they could also be the most painful and the most violent.

Symin had gone pale, but Link wasn’t through. “Do you know why?”

“Paya had called us all together to try and get Impa to see sense about marrying Rolk,” he explained, constantly looking over his shoulder. “She thought if she had her aunt and as many family friends around her that she could get, maybe her grandmother would give him her blessing. Since I was already here, they roped me into the cause, too.”

Link’s head was reeling. Now they had more suspects to consider, suspects who were their friends and mentors and Paya’s only remaining family. People who were traveling from all corners of Hyrule who could have run into a Fairy Fountain whenever they liked. The only person he could trust, the only one Link knew for sure had come to Kakariko at the news of Impa’s death, was Zelda.

The sound of frantic scrambling through the wet brush alerted Link, his ears attuned to quieter sounds of conflict. He brandished the Ancient Sword, which Symin jumped at, and prepared himself for whoever was coming.

Out of the forest came a sobbing, soaking Paya, trailed closely by Purah, Robbie, and Zelda.

Link put the sword away, but Paya hardly noticed it or him as she shoved him out of her way and finally came upon the amber tomb and Rolk encased within.

“Rolk!” she cried out, throwing herself onto the amber. “No!”

She sobbed into the amber, and they were wracking, guttural sobs that pained Link to watch. Paya had shown extraordinary strength during the interrogations of her neighbors and even her fiancé, who was now sealed away here until the goddesses chose. But who in Hyrule could handle all this grief and shock and pain in a single day?

Her hands lay upon the amber. One was clenched and pounding it over and over again, while the other was open and pressed to the surface, as though seeking a handhold or a crevice with which to pry it open.

She fell to her knees beside it, curling up against the golden casket. She was the very picture of such a vacuous loss, of how losing someone evaporated strength, destroyed happiness, and froze the sun out of the sky.

It was a familiar feeling.

Link touched her shoulder gently. “Paya—”

“Don’t!” Her eyes were red, and even the dye of her Sheikah eye was running. The others watched helplessly in the rain, none acting quickly enough to remember their cloaks. “Don’t touch me!”

“I won’t.” He knelt beside her. “I know how you feel. I’ve been exactly where you’ve been.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was hoarse, and so harsh that it didn’t even sound like Paya. “Leave me alone!”

“Link.” A hand grasped his shoulder, and he turned and found Zelda standing there. “You have to go.”

Link looked back at Paya and saw his one hundred and twenty years all reflected in her eyes.

He stood without a word, and Zelda pulled them away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	8. A Lack of Courage

Zelda pulled him further away from Kakariko Village, choosing instead to bring them to the vacant path toward Lanayru Road. Link was listless as they walked, though it was getting a little easier to breathe as they got marginally further from the village. He was drowning in blood that had already been washed away.

Someone was picking off Paya’s family, and it could be anyone in the village. Someone who had a fairy and Monster Extract on hand—but with Kilton’s regular stops to Kakariko Village, anyone could have gotten some. Everyone in the village was now a suspect, including the very people who had faithfully waited one hundred years for Link and Zelda to rescue Hyrule. 

They stopped at the edge of the brush. Zelda opened her mouth but paused, taking in the look on his face and how, in the face of grief and helplessness, he had suddenly ceased to be Link. “Are you all right?”

He imagined he was getting that blank look in his eyes, which Teba had given him a hard time for on a diplomatic visit to Rito Village. Sidon, too, had commented on the powerful silence that descended upon Link whenever the hero found himself unearthing another memory.

The memory that Paya had dredged up was only six months old. Much fresher, and much more painful, too. 

Link met her eyes. “No. And I haven’t been for a long time.”

Seeing Paya weeping over Rolk had unlocked something in him. If he was feeling charitable toward himself, he would say that he had buried the guilt and remorse, but the reality was they governed his every move, moving him through the world like a marionette. “It felt like the world ended when Mipha died. Well, it did end, and I died trying to stop that. It wasn't as though there was much left to kill. After she died, I was just a collection of bones and muscle that moved when you needed me to, Zelda. The Guardians wounded my body, but Mipha’s death killed me.”

And suddenly he was back at Riverside Stable, watching the stars while a convalescing Zelda slept on. There was nothing for him to fight, unless the Goddess of Time herself cared to descend and appear before him. “And then when the Guardian struck you, it was Mipha all over again. I was losing you in a fight I couldn’t win. Whenever I looked at you, all laid up in bed while we waited for the goddesses to allow you to live, I thought I was going to die, too. And I couldn’t do it anymore! I’ve lost so much—we both have—but I was never as strong as you. I can’t take any more close shaves.”

He tasted salt on his lips. Zelda reached her arms out and took his face into her hands. “That’s why I shut down the Guardians. Because I was afraid of them, and because I feared one might cross your path after you left the castle. I couldn’t bear to lose anyone else, either.”

He fell to his knees before her, clinging to her as if she were a buoy in a storm-tossed sea. She had fallen into the same hole he had, but somehow she had managed to stay afloat. He was drowning in Malice as it ate away at him, until all that was left of him was a hand clamped on the Master Sword. But Zelda had proceeded with an actual fix—a divisive fix, certainly, but it was better than running away.

Zelda knelt beside him, and suddenly he was launched into another memory: it was a rainy day like this when Ganon struck, leveling the Champions in a single sweep. He was holding her, just like how she was holding him now, and doing his best to let the grief ride itself out. They still had jobs to do and a kingdom to save.

What did they have left now? A murderer on the loose in Kakariko, which could be any resident or visiting Sheikah. “Link,” she said softly. “Link, we have to go back to the group, because Rolk’s attacker is with them. Rolk’s attacker was someone in that house.”

He pulled away from her and looked at her. So they did have a fight left in front of them. “How do you know?”

“Because when we went back to the manor, I checked for the Sickle we confiscated from Tissi.” She swiped at her face. “Cado put it in the drawer. It wasn’t there when I looked five minutes ago.”

“Hylia help us.” He, too, wiped his eyes. “Purah, Symin, and Robbie were here before Impa died. I assumed they had traveled for the funeral, but they were here when it happened.”

“What?” Zelda looked back at the thick brush, as though expecting their murderer to waltz out of it.

“I know. They all came here to convince Impa to bless Paya's marriage. She was apparently the only holdout.”

She nodded solemnly. “Impa clung to tradition, even in the days before the Calamity.”

“I remember.” Yet another memory resurfaced, not as painful as the others. On his visits to the Royal Ancient Lab, which had now crumbled to dust, he remembered Impa watching her sister and Robbie work with a sage smile. _They put their faith in the things our tribe made,_ she said, _but I put it in our people._

It was one of her people who killed her.

Zelda stood and brushed off her red gown, a red that symbolized grief to the Sheikah, a red that the Yiga wore to divorce themselves from their community. But he wore only his Champion’s Tunic to the funeral, at Paya’s behest. She insisted her grandmother would have wanted him to wear it. And this tunic, woven by Zelda a century ago, had been through heat and frost and rain and filth. 

So had he. So had they.

And Paya was sinking in that filth now. The world was levying wound after wound on her, and there was nothing they could do.

“It could have been anyone in Kakariko Village,” he said hoarsely. “The villagers, or Purah, or Robbie, or Symin. It could have been Tissi or Dria after all, too. Or even Paya.”

"But why kill Rolk?" she replied. "Could it have been for sport?”

“I don’t think a killer would find a lot of thrill in poisoning an old woman,” he said, “but we have to consider all the possibilities.” The possibilities included the friends gathered around Paya at this very moment, though there were so many witnesses that the killer—or killers—wouldn’t dare strike. Or it could be Cado, who was free to move about while Dorian and Tissi were holed away? Was it an impressive bit of sleight of hand on Cado’s part? Was that it?

“What do we do?” Zelda pleaded. To him or the goddesses, he couldn’t tell. “There’s no rhyme or reason. Rolk was attacked while he was running away.”

“Why was the murderer at the Fairy Fountain?” The attack had been so swift, yet there was no evidence of his assailant when Link arrived on the scene seconds later. “It was so quick, Zelda. Why would the murderer need the help of more fairies when they have their own weapon?”

Footsteps in the brush alerted Link and he shot to his feet, drawing the Ancient Sword. But it was only Robbie, his face pale and drawn. “Paya wants you both to come back to the village.”

“Of course,” Zelda said as Link put away the blade. He helped her up, and the three of them made their way back to the clearing of the Fairy Fountain, which was abandoned save for Rolk’s coffin.

“Paya and the others went ahead,” he explained. “Rolk is to remain here until this matter is sorted. Paya doesn’t want the village to become alarmed.”

“Isn’t it time for alarm?” Zelda retorted. “Isn’t it time your citizens know there’s a killer in their midst?”

He sighed. “I said the same thing to her.”

They found Paya waiting with Purah and Symin at the foot of the manor stairs, huddling under the little archway that afforded them only so much cover from the rain. Robbie escorted them down the path and to the manor, where Link noticed that Purah seemed just as distraught as her colleague, though Paya’s face was like stone.

“My fiancé is barely clinging to life,” she said over the rain. “And chances are that once we take him to the Shrine of Resurrection, I will not see him for one hundred years. Even to the Sheikah, that is an unforgivably long time.”

Zelda’s face crumpled. “We’re so sorry, Paya.”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Her lip was trembling again, but her words came out like spears. She gestured to the two guards at the sides of the arch, new faces instead of Dorian and Cado, and continued, “We have been operating alongside you Hylians and taking your directions thus far. One thing is clear: it was your leadership that sent Rolk to his fate. Perhaps my grandmother was right. Perhaps only a Sheikah can look out for the Sheikah.”

Link’s stomach was sinking. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that until this matter is resolved, you will not be involved in the investigation any longer. Kakariko Village is closing itself to outsiders, which you have proven yourselves to be most painfully. Now, if you please.”

The guards moved in front of Paya and Purah. One reached out and took back the Ancient Sword. “Hey!”

The other reached for the Sheikah Slate. “That Sheikah artifact has remained in Hylian hands for too long.”

Zelda backed away from them, pulling Link along with her, and then held her hand palm out. He stumbled at her side, shocked by this turn of events. Didn’t Paya see that they were trying to help? Didn’t she see that the killer wanted to cut Rolk down, no matter who did what? “Don’t do this, Paya! Or—I’ll use the sealing power!”

Paya walked towards her fearlessly, pushing past her guards. “Do you know why we hang the Charmed Chimes, Your Highness? And why we take them down when someone dies?”

Zelda’s hand trembled. She shook her head.

“We take them down to invite the aid of the goddesses so the deceased may have an easier passage to the Sacred Realm,” Paya said quietly. “For, you see, our Charmed Chimes are enchanted so as not to allow any magic but their own seal in the village. Not even your sealing power can break that charm.”

Paya had walked right up to Zelda and brushed her hand away, as though flicking away a twig on the ground. She said, “Give me the Slate. Don’t make this harder than it already is."

Zelda looked down at the precious Slate in her hands, her most fascinating puzzle and Link’s own closest ally, and then handed it over.

“Thank you.” The leader of Kakariko Village turned on her heel and waved for her guards to approach Link and Zelda. “Escort them outside the village with as much force as they deem necessary.”

The guards walked up and took them roughly by the arms, pulling them towards the path out of the village. Only Purah and Robbie waited to watch the Hylians get dragged away, though their clear unease didn’t outweigh their desire not to cross their niece. Paya was already climbing the stairs to the manor, ignoring the expulsion of the only non-suspects in Kakariko Village. “Paya, it’s not safe!” Zelda yelled. “You can’t trust anyone! Don’t trust anyone!”


	9. The Compact Crux

The guards dragged Link and Zelda out of Kakariko Village and tossed them to the muddy ground outside the entrance archway. One stayed in the archway, arms folded and feet planted, while the other marched off up the hill, probably to the other gateway. Kakariko was sealed to the rest of the world, and no power, not even Zelda’s royal sealing power, could change that.

Link climbed to his feet, helped Zelda to hers, and pulled her down the path and around the bend until they were out of sight of the guard.

“We have to get back in!” Zelda retorted as she tried to wrestle away her arm. His grip remained firm.

“Paya won’t let us in,” he said. “Nothing in Hyrule will change that.”

“We’re the only two people who could not have possibly killed Impa!” she retorted. “We’re the only people she knows won’t hurt her!”

“There’s nothing we can do.”

She finally tore her arm away as they came to a stop, her hands balling into fists. In his quest to avoid her eyes, he saw the slight chatter in her teeth and heaved a sigh. No cloaks, no Sheikah Slate, and no way back into Kakariko Village. They had nothing but their wits, which were what got them into this spot in the first place.

“If we figure out who did this,” he offered, “then maybe we can convince her to hear us out.”

“But how do we do that without ironclad proof?” Zelda gazed at him. “It’s the same thing. The only way we could convince people Impa had been murdered was with proof.”

“We convinced people with the aid of Paya,” he reminded. “You don’t think—?” The idea that Paya could murder her grandmother in cold blood truly hadn’t occurred to Link until now. Not seriously, anyway. Maybe it was foolish not to consider that possibility.

Zelda tilted her head. “We’re finding a strength in her that I never saw before.”

Link had missed it, too. But when she saw the Virtuous Venom and knew they had to investigate…as she confidently interrogated their suspects, fielding every surprise with stoicism…

“She could have,” he whispered. “She could have done it and led this investigation to set someone else up to take the fall. You’re right, Zelda. She is stronger than we gave her credit for, and the quiet strength is always the deadliest.” Zelda would know.

Zelda frowned, shaking her head. "But if she did, all she would have to do is call you a liar. No one noticed the marks of the Venom but you. She wouldn't need this song and dance. Besides, you saw how she collapsed when Rolk was attacked. She couldn’t have done this.”

“And she was in the manor when he was attacked,” Link added. “Physically, it’s impossible. Could it be a second murderer, taking advantage of the confusion? But then why attack Rolk at all? Who else had it out for him?” Rolk rubbed most in Kakariko the wrong way, but enough to take up arms against him?

“Wait.” Zelda’s hand clamped upon his arm. “Link. Link, Rolk couldn’t have just been fleeing arrest. He was running _for_ something!”

The chill had ground the gears in his mind to a halt. “I don’t follow.”

“Link, the murderer must have been waiting for him,” she said. “We agreed that the murderer had struck and fled so quickly that they must have been prepared. Logically, that means that they were waiting at the Fairy Fountain. And when Rolk made a break for the Fairy Fountain and found his attacker waiting there—"

“It must mean Rolk had a reason to go there, and the murderer knew it!” The soaring triumph of their deduction quickly gave way to more confusion. They had found one piece to the puzzle, but large patches of nothing still remained. Why would Rolk run for the Fairy Fountain? “Was he seeking the aid of a fairy to save him?”

Zelda paled. “That would mean he knew he was going to die, anyway. I don’t think—no, I don’t think he was planning to die. We heard that scream! It had to be because he was surprised to see the murderer there, because…well, I don’t know how possible it is to scream if your head is being cut off your body.”

Suddenly, Link pressed a finger to his lips and pulled the princess against the rock wall. His ears, ever attuned to sounds of danger, picked up wet, muffled footsteps, the quietest he’d ever heard.

Zelda, having deduced what was happening, pushed herself in front of him, hands held palm out. “I have a weapon,” she whispered. “You don’t.”

The bright gold glow burst from her hands faster than Link had ever seen since they entered Kakariko. Zelda leaped out from their hiding place with a loud “Stop!”

“Hey!” Purah stumbled upon the hem of Link’s cloak bundled in her arms, and she tripped and fell to the ground, narrowly missing a dip in the road now filled with mud.

“Sorry, sorry!” Zelda reached down and helped the little scientist up as Link came out of his hiding place. “We didn’t know what to expect.”

“I don’t think you need to use your sealing power on one de-aged scientist,” Purah snapped, holding out Link and Zelda’s cloaks. Her face softened as they eagerly put them on, their trembling fingers fumbling with the clasps.

“Thank you, Purah.” Zelda pulled up her hood and snuggled into her cloak. “You’re very kind.”

Purah glanced over her shoulder at the path to the village. “Paya acted…severely. You’ll catch a terrible chill without your cloaks in this rain.”

The Hylians exchanged a guilty glance. “Does she know you’re here?” Link asked.

“She retired to her bedroom for the time being. Robbie and I took the opportunity to compare notes. There are some things that we have not told you two, and we owe you our apologies for that.”

“Like how you had all come to Kakariko before the funeral?” he said.

Purah’s eyes widened. “You know about that?”

“Why were you keeping it secret?” Zelda said quickly. “And is there anything else we should know? Anything you have seen that someone would think would be more convenient to leave out?”

“Like where you were when Rolk was attacked?”

Purah’s face screwed up, as though she were keeping a horrible secret. “We weren’t there, if that’s what you mean. And the matter of our presence before the funeral was one of familial matters. Who told you about that?”

“Symin.”

“Hmm. So you know everything.”

“Still,” Zelda butted in, her eyes unwavering from Purah, “we would like to know where you were while Rolk was attacked.”

Purah’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Robbie and I had gone to the graveyard to visit Impa’s grave, to try and wrap our heads around the whole affair. We didn’t get far. It’s not an excellent alibi, I know, but it’s the truth.”

Zelda looked back at Link, her lips pursed. “Robbie told me he was with you,” said Link. “But nothing else.”

“He is a very private man. He would hardly tell me his wife was ill when we arrived.” She took a deep breath and lifted her head again. “I have told you all I know. All I ask is you tell me what you know, too.”

Zelda filled her in on their deductions and the speculations that had substance. Purah listened in silence, eyes narrowing while she turned their theories over in her head. Who better to bounce ideas off than a scientist?

“Interesting.” Purah pushed her glasses up her nose. “It lacks the hard data to prove it, but the theory about Rolk’s attack is solid.”

“All we have left is theory,” Link replied. 

“I’m certain that my niece is poring over the Slates even now. Perhaps it is best that she has both of them within reach. They have all the information pertaining to this case.” A little smile came to Purah’s face, and her eyes were trained upon the ground, though they had a familiar far-off look in them. “The Slate had fascinated her since the first time she held it in her hands. I showed it to her when I visited—it had been quite a long time since I had, you see— and I didn’t get it back until the morning I departed.”

The chill had stalled Link’s mind, but her words were like the air of Goron City, wrapping around him and warming his gears until suddenly his mind was chugging away again. The pieces had been in front of them all this time—and what’s more, they were falling into place themselves!

“Purah,” he whispered, “Purah, the night when you all came here to talk to Impa. When Paya had assembled you to plead Rolk’s case.”

Purah’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”

“Did it work?”

She tapped her foot on the ground, and then said, “That’s a private matter, too, but yes. Impa confessed to me that she planned on setting things right with her granddaughter.” Purah’s face fell. Link was certain he had pushed the scientist too far, rehashed her grief and thus forced her to fall silent, but she then let out a quiet sigh. “Paya was in tears toward the end of the night, and Impa hated seeing her unhappy.”

Link pulled himself up to his full height and took a deep breath. The pieces had fallen into place with resounding clicks, and suddenly Link held within him a complete understanding of the scoundrel who had murdered Impa. “I know who did it.”


	10. Who Killed Impa?

“Help! Help!”

The guard came rushing out to Purah, who was curled in a ball on the round and screaming at the top of her lungs. “What’s wrong?”

Link leapt down from the cliff face’s ledge, up high and out of sight, cloak fluttering in his hand as he fell. He landed expertly behind the guard and threw the cloak over his face, hands locking on the blinded guard. Before he could shout, Zelda bolted into sight and gave him a swift uppercut, and the guard dropped to the ground like a box of rocks.

“You know,” said Zelda as Link wrestled his cloak back, “we could have used my magic to incapacitate him.”

“All we had to do was knock him out.” He fastened the clasp of the cloak around his neck. “Not burn him out of the sky.”

The three of them ran together under the archway and into Kakariko Village. Purah peeled off towards the Sheikah manor, but Link and Zelda charged up the hill to Ta’loh Naeg Shrine. A voice cried out “Intruders!”

Link glanced over his shoulder and saw the other guard atop the adjacent hill running towards them. He pushed Zelda in front of him and kept running. As long as Purah was fast, all would go according to plan.

The Hylians reached the Shrine and climbed onward. As they rounded the bend, Link saw Purah dragging Robbie out of the manor, with the Sheikah Slate in hand. Paya and Symin were hot on their heels. _Good._

A hand grabbed Link’s arm and yanked him down. The wet path offered no friction and he fell down, sliding down the hill past the Sheikah guard, who was now advancing on Zelda. But the princess wasn’t afraid: she merely extended her hand and shot blazing light toward him.

Blinded, he toppled to the ground and also slid down the path. Link scrambled to his feet and caught up to Zelda, and as they ran into the woods, she said, “Look at that. I did _not_ scorch him off the face of Hyrule. I can control the powers just fine.”

“All I’m saying is that you tend to be pretty all-or-nothing.”

They reached the Fairy Fountain. Rolk remained in his amber prism, convalescing for the foreseeable future. Paya and Symin, merely because they were younger and taller Sheikah, made it to the clearing first. Paya was ragged, exhausted, and infuriated as she stormed toward them, eyes puffy and fists clenched.

“You’re breaking Sheikah law!” she exclaimed. “Ten thousand years of our people serving Hyrule’s royalty, and you cannot respect our boundaries this once?”

Zelda cut to the chase. “We know who killed your grandmother.”

A cold glaze came over Paya’s eyes. Symin stood there, totally floored as Purah and Robbie finally climbed through the brush. The Sheikah guard appeared, too, and headed for Link, but Paya held up a hand.

“Wait, Raza. But be ready.”

The guard nodded obediently. Purah walked toward Link and handed him the Sheikah Slate, which was enough to break Paya from her stupor.

“Auntie!” she cried out. “What are you doing?”

“Logic demands proof,” she said, “and Link needs the Slate to prove his case.”

“Paya, we just need a moment,” he begged. “A moment to put all of this behind us. Will you hear us out?”

“I want this chaos to be over!” she bellowed. “Invading the village, handling a precious relic of our people, and now this song and dance? We don’t even have our suspects!”

Zelda’s voice was solemn. “Yes, we do.”

Paya looked around her at her family, the horrible truth dawning on her. “My family? My closest friends?”

“It could only have been us. This is why.” Link tapped the Sheikah Slate and activated the Magnesis rune. He held the screen up and looked through it at the now-maroon forest floor, which seemed dark and empty.

He walked the perimeter of the clearing, combing the ground with the Slate. Their suspects followed with their eyes, and Zelda and Purah watched the suspects while he searched. His nerves got more and more frayed until he returned to his starting point empty-handed. “It has to be here.”

Zelda leaned in close to him. “What about behind the Fountain?” she whispered.

Behind the Fountain! They raced to the other side of the Fairy Fountain, and as it turned out, they had no need of Magnesis: Tissi’s confiscated Vicious Sickle lay hidden under the petals, half-buried in the dirt and waiting to be dug up.

“You’re brilliant, princess.” Link deactivated the Slate, reached down, and picked up the blade. Together the three of them returned to their suspects, who gasped when they saw their prize.

“Tissi’s Sickle!” whispered Robbie. “What’s it doing here?”

“This was the weapon used to kill Rolk.” Link held it out to the party, where they could clearly see the soil glued to the blade by blood. He handed it off to Zelda, who grimaced at the caked-on filth.

“But the only people who had access to it were…” Paya’s eyes widened. “They were with us in the room.”

“And Cado,” said Link, “but I saw him in Kakariko the moment Rolk was attacked.”

Robbie paled. “So it’s one of us.”

“Yes.”

Paya folded her arms. “Then stop wasting time. If you can put an end to the chaos, then do it.”

“As you wish.” Link took a deep breath. He had witnessed Zelda delegating before and after the Calamity struck, and this was definitely her arena, but knowing the volatile nature of this murderer, he wasn’t putting anyone but himself in danger. Zelda had made that concession unexpectedly easily.

“We know very little for sure,” he began, “but we know a few simple truths. Because of the nature of Rolk’s attack, we know that it was planned, and that the murderer knew Rolk would run to the Fairy Fountain. We know you were all here before Impa died, which means you could have killed her, too. And we know that someone needed a fairy to kill Impa with Virtuous Venom.”

“But we interrogated everyone who took one,” said Paya.

“No, we didn’t.” Zelda swallowed hard. “Someone else had access to a fairy.”

“That was your own testimony!” Paya said, incensed. “Did you withhold information from us?”

“What we said, and what Cotera said, is true. Only three people took fairies from this Fountain.” Link sighed. “I think it might be prudent first to understand why Impa died. That is the one thing that has never become clear to any of us while we investigated.”

Purah gave a heavy nod. “She was beloved by the Sheikah, and by us here most of all.”

“And that was the very reason you had all come to Kakariko,” said Link. “Paya summoned you to try and change Impa’s mind about giving her marriage her blessing. You were her loved ones, but you were also ‘pure’ Sheikah who had foregone the traditional eye in your day-to-day. No one would be more likely to persuade her. Purah, what was the outcome of that meeting, again?”

She heaved a sigh. “She told me later that night that she was going to give in. She would do anything to see her granddaughter happy. I truly do believe it would not have taken long for her to say so.”

Paya swiped at her eyes. The tragedy levied on her this day—only a day!—must be incomprehensible to her. “What is the point of this, Link?”

And he was going to levy even more upon her shoulders with his next words. “Because that’s why she was killed.”

The suspects were stunned still, except for Paya, who was crying in earnest. Link walked toward her slowly, as if approaching a wounded animal. She was in pain, which meant she was volatile, but he had to get through to her, and he may be the only person in this clearing who could.

“I had a fiancée, too, once. I lost her to the Calamity. We were friends when I was young—when a Zora hears that you can’t swim, they take it upon themselves to teach you. We met again while I was training at the Akkalan Citadel, when she and her father visited the Hylian forces. Suddenly, I was finding every excuse I could to visit Zora’s Domain. No matter how tedious or dangerous the assignment, I was there to take it. When Princess Zelda asked her to be a Champion of Hyrule, she agreed without hesitation because she refused to let me fight Ganon alone. It’s funny, the things we do for love."

He turned back to the group. “So when Paya calls on her loved ones to help her, and that effort to change Impa’s mind succeeds, the tide turns. The world changes. And for someone in love with Paya, it becomes a threatening place.”

“What are you talking about?” the Sheikah elder snapped. “Rolk—he would not do something like this! He couldn’t!”

“I’m not talking about Rolk.” Link’s eyes narrowed. “But he does come into it. First, though, Symin, will you tell me about how you met Purah?”

His eyes narrowed. “When she came to visit her sister and brought the Sheikah Slate. What does this have to do with her death?”

Link ignored him and turned to Paya. “Was this the same visit where you saw the Slate for the first time?”

“It was.” Paya had recovered some of her dignity, standing taller and quieting her sniffles.

“And it fascinated you, didn’t it?”

She nodded, and now a little smile appeared on her face, thankful for a happier memory to examine. “I thought it was the most incredible thing I had ever seen.”

“That’s right. So imagine you’re in love with Paya, and you see her take such a shine to the Sheikah Slate, so you figure that the Slate is the way to her heart. It’s funny, the things we do for love, like asking your village elder to introduce you to her sister who spent her life studying it. And you’re quiet, because you know that her grandmother would think you’re an unfit match, but you find ways to impress them both. And then when she finds someone else—someone who is not a pure Sheikah, and someone who everyone else puts up with for Paya’s sake, you’re bound to be upset.

“And then Paya calls for help. She asks you to convince her grandmother to give her betrothed her blessing. Maybe you think Impa won’t bend, because she hasn’t bent in the last hundred years, or maybe you think you can sway Paya to leave him. Either way, though, it doesn’t happen, and Impa is inches away from giving her blessing. What would you do then? After years of jealousy and heartache and work, only to be foiled by a traveling merchant instead of an honorable Sheikah researcher, what would you do when the person you once counted as an ally now betrays you?”

Purah tapped Raza the Sheikah guard’s hand, and he began moving through the group. Link added, “Then, when the opportunity arises to put the blame on Paya’s betrothed, you deny his alibi, even though he was telling the truth. Even though you did take the fairy from him, and it was the same fairy you used to concoct the Virtuous Venom that killed Impa. Isn’t that right, Symin?”

Symin tried to make a break for it, but Raza caught him and held him in place, forcing his arms behind his back. Paya turned to him and asked in a horrorstricken whisper, “Is it true?”

Only now did Symin meet her eyes. “I’m sorry, Paya.”

Link closed in. “Rolk _did_ ask you to get rid of the fairy! But with the case stacking up against him so well, you lied about his alibi and hung the crime on him! You knew he would come to Cotera and ask if her fairy had returned to her, so you stole the Vicious Sickle, attacked him so viciously that a fairy shouldn’t have been able to heal him, and stowed the weapon so you could circle back around and look innocent!”

“All the mentorship,” growled Purah, who had been the most difficult to convince to keep silent, “and you murder my sister over an overlong infatuation!”

Robbie pulled out the Ancient Sword. The blue blade awoke, blazing and eager to meet flesh. “How could you do that to Impa?”

“Living in a shadow can warp one’s view of the world,” Zelda said, venom dripping from her words. “It can excuse the unforgivable.”

Paya was silent. Her face twisted in agony and shock, though not a word passed her lips. Symin was a fool to believe this could have ever worked. He never had a chance with Paya in the first place, being so much older and barely able to win her aunt’s approval. But there was no reasoning with a murderer—there was barely any reasoning in a war, either, where unapologetic slaying tore the world apart.

“Why did you save him?” Paya’s voice was hoarse, and thick with tears. “If you wanted to stop Rolk, why did you save him?”

“Because of you.” Symin fought against his captor, but Link, Zelda, and Robbie all threw themselves into his path anyway, forming a wall before the Sheikah elder. He continued, “Capturing Rolk in Stasis would keep him imprisoned. The princess’ offer to entomb him and then take him to the Shrine of Resurrection would ensure he never spoke, and it would ensure you didn’t completely collapse.”

“Don’t pretend you thought of me!” Paya retorted. “Don’t pretend anything you did was to make me happy!”

Symin’s face fell. “You’re all I think of. Day in and day out, I pour my heart into that Sheikah Slate so you’ll be fascinated by it all over again. Rolk may recover, and he may not, but I will be at your side. I can take care of you, Paya.”

“Enough!” Paya pushed through her vanguard and stormed to Symin, but Link held her back. Robbie silently pressed the Ancient Sword into his palm. “You will see me at your trial and your sentencing, and then you will never be allowed anywhere outside a prison again! You’re a monster, Symin. A complete dishonor to the Sheikah tribe!”

Symin paled. “I will win that honor back, Paya. I promise you.”

In a flash, he kicked at Raza’s ankle, which had been injured in his tumble down the hill. As Raza fell, Symin turned and bolted away from the group.

“No!” Zelda thrust her hand into the air and golden light billowed out from her palm, whipping into a whirlwind that trapped the group in the clearing. The light blazed at them, hot to the touch, and ensured Symin could not run any further.

Link advanced on him, brandishing the Ancient Sword. Symin turned back, his wide and desperate eyes landing on Paya, and he vowed, “I—I will earn the greatest honor in Hyrule! I’ll prove myself!”

He whipped out his Sheikah Slate prototype. Link and Raza hurtled toward him, but Symin pointed the Slate at them and pressed a button. Link froze in his footsteps, bound by weightless yellow chains, as was Raza beside him. Link watched helplessly as Symin’s form was overtaken by a blue light, and then that blue light drifted upward and vanished into the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And all is explained! What do you guys think?


	11. Bringing Back the Light

The Stasis rune broke, and Link collapsed to his knees while gasping for breath. The Ancient Sword fluttered out of his hand. Raza was down for the count, too.

The blaze of Zelda’s sealing power faded as she rushed toward him, though Purah had already beaten her to the punch. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said. "No wonder Bokoblins are angrier after they wake from Stasis. It’s awful.”

“It’s the least of our problems,” snapped Paya as Robbie tended to the guard. “Symin could be anywhere in Hyrule now with a Sheikah Slate prototype that we don’t fully know the capabilities of. I thought the Shrines were dead! Is there one you skipped in the great purge, Princess?”

She shook her head. “No. There can’t be.”

Robbie’s eyes lit up. “But he could have used the Teleportation Medallion, could he not?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Sheikah artifact I found on my travels,” Link explained, feeling the guilt weigh him down in his stomach. “When I moved into the castle, I handed it off to Purah and Symin to study. I had no use of it.”

“It’s a teleportation gate.” Purah adjusted her glasses on her nose. “One you can put down anywhere.”

“Surely we can use the original Sheikah Slate to get to it!” Zelda exclaimed. 

Purah snatched the Sheikah Slate from Link’s belt and brought up its map. For one hopeful, shining moment, they all leaned in and checked the map, looking for the bright blue waypoints; but the map remained dark. No teleportation gate was active.

“Knowing Symin, if he found a way to connect the Medallion to his bastardization of the Slate, blocking the original from doing the same is well within his wheelhouse.” Robbie hung his head. “He could be anywhere in Hyrule, and we’re powerless to stop him.”

“We know he’ll come back eventually,” said Paya, her mouth twisting into a frown. “That business about proving his honor.”

“We can’t wait,” Zelda replied. “I don’t know how he intends to prove his honor, but I refuse to let that madman ravage Hyrule unchecked.”

A hard pit formed in Link’s stomach. He knew exactly what Symin was going to do, and if his companions gave it a little thought, they would, too. It was obvious to any soldier—and, really, anyone in Hyrule.

“He’s going to try to draw the Master Sword.” His voice was hollow. “The greatest honor in Hyrule. What else could there be?”

A pallor came over all the group’s faces. “But trying to draw it will kill him, won’t it?”

“If the Lost Woods doesn’t kill him first,” he replied, looking at Purah. “Countless searchers have been taken by the Woods. If he misplaced his Medallion, it could be as simple as that. He’d be gone.”

“I refuse to allow him to slip away,” said Paya. “Even if he was taken by the Lost Woods. He must be punished to the fullest extent of Sheikah law!”

Link met Zelda’s eyes. They knew what had to happen. They knew exactly how to get to the Lost Woods in an instant.

Wordlessly, Zelda reached for the Sheikah Slate in Purah’s hands. “If we reawaken the Towers and the Shrines, Link can head to the Woods,” she explained. “And he can catch Symin and bring him back.”

“If he’s a captive of the Woods, I can ask the Deku Tree to send the Koroks after him,” he offered. “But if he makes it all the way to the Master Sword, the attempt to draw it will be short and deadly. I can bring him back to Kakariko Village, but we have to act fast.”

Zelda held the Sheikah Slate in her hands, staring down at the darkened map. He saw the day they were attacked by Guardians reflected in her eyes, and the day her powers had awakened in her unsteady fingers. Ganon’s infernal possession of the Sheikah artifacts during the Calamity sat on her shoulders. She did not see a fight for justice in reawakening the relics; she only saw herself throwing open the gates to chaos so death and destruction could ravage Hyrule again.

“Zelda.” His voice was soft as he drew closer to her, putting away the Ancient Sword. “Zelda, you need to reawaken them again. There’s no other way.”

“What can Symin do with the Shrines once they are functional again?” she whispered. “If he was able to recreate the Sheikah Slate and make the ancient runes more powerful in just a few years, imagine what he can do with the Divine Beasts!”

“I won’t let him get that far.” The century Zelda spent in the belly of the beast had sharpened her into the deadliest weapon in Hyrule, but it was often the sharpest blades that were the most brittle and fragile, and they could not bear more pressure than it was made for.

“Princess.” He touched her arm and she turned to him, the slightest tremble in her lip. “This is how we stop Symin from hurting anyone else. This is what we have to do to keep the peace.”

“What about the Guardians?” she whispered. “What if they hurt you?”

Purah and Robbie exchanged a confused glance. Link said, “We can turn them right back off once it’s over. You trusted me enough to wait one hundred years for my awakening. Can you trust me for a few more minutes?”

He saw something unchain in her, and her hands began to glow as she pressed her palm into the Slate’s screen. “I never stopped.”

She turned back to the Slate and pressed her palm into the screen. The lights on the Slate began to glow. She closed her eyes as she poured her magic into the relic, brow furrowing in concentration.

From afar, he heard the sibilant hum of Ta’loh Naeg Shrine reawaken. He raced to the edge of the clearing, where he could see it glowing a beautiful blue. He heard the same hum from the Lakna Rokee Shrine upon the hill next, and shortly to follow were the Shrines all across Hyrule, waking in a triumphant blaze of glory. The Sheikah Towers would stand out like torches in the darkest night, telling all the land that the ancient relics had returned to full power. 

The glow died in her hands and she closed her eyes, wavering on her feet. She had extended her power to the furthest corners of Hyrule—no mean feat, even for a veteran of a century-long magical duel. He reached out for her and she collapsed into his arms, breathless, the Sheikah Slate slipping from her fingers. “Did we do it?”

“You did it. You brought light back to the land.”

Her gaze was tired, but the urgency in them was unmistakable. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Paya’s voice broke the spell. “The princess is right. We don’t have time to waste.” Raza swept the princess off her feet, and her head lolled back, eyes half-lidded. “We will take Zelda back to the Village. Link, go to the Lost Woods and get Symin.”

“I’ll be back soon.” He picked up the Sheikah Slate. “Be safe.”

“You, too.” Paya nodded as he turned to the Slate, scrolling to the Great Hyrule Forest on the map. He found the Keo Rugg Shrine, nestled snugly against the trunk of the Deku Tree, on the map and selected it. He was on his way.

A blue tinge appeared around his field of vision, as it always did when teleporting. As his being filtered away to soar across Hyrule, he at last caught Zelda’s face, who, for the first time in six months, was smiling at him.

He had missed that smile.

And suddenly he was no longer at Kakariko Village’s Fairy Fountain, but in a sunny and warm Korok Forest. He cast off his cloak and ran down the path to the Deku Tree, alerting the Koroks to his presence. The Koroks, the diminutive inhabitants of the forest, were skittish by nature, but none were ambling about as he bolted to the pedestal where the Master Sword rested, waiting for its next call to arms.

“Deku Tree!” he called up. “A Sheikah is going to try to make his way here through the Lost Woods. I beg you, send the Koroks out to save him—”

He skidded to a stop when he took in the sight of the Deku Tree, bound up in bright yellow chains. The Deku Tree’s eyes were closed and peaceful. He must have been asleep when the spell of the Stasis rune fell upon him!

He heard panting and shuffling from above and drew his weapon. From within a hole in the Deku Tree’s trunk limped out an exhausted Symin, who had a drawn bow fixed on Link.

“So Stasis breaks when the Slate moves out of range,” he panted. “Good to know.”

Link was silent as the Sheikah walked down to him. He spotted a dozen Koroks huddled in the hole, a handful of others taking shelter in the higher boughs and watching, petrified. “How did you teleport in?” Link asked. “That must be a powerful Medallion you created.”

“I walked through the Woods on foot,” he snarled. “Picked up this bow from a corpse. And the Koroks were so kind to fill me a quiver.” He nodded over his shoulder at the knot in the trunk, where Link had spent sleepless nights in the bed the dear creatures made for him.

“You can see them, too?” Link had thought he was the only one in Hyrule who could. He had also thought he was the only one in Hyrule who could make it through the Lost Woods and come back out. A hundred years ago, Symin could have made a fine knight.

Symin nodded. “And they know that I will not free their beloved Deku Tree until I get what I want, Champion. So.”

He nodded to the Master Sword. “Draw it, and then hand it over to me.”


	12. The Fight in the Forest

Link stared down Symin’s arrow and right into his frantic, desperate eyes. He looked like he couldn’t go through with killing Link, and would perhaps falter at the last moment; but Link had underestimated him before, and it was often the nervous killers who became the most reckless.

Symin stretched the bowstring further. “While you’re at it, drop the weapon you’re wielding now and kick it over to me.”

Link opened his hand and let the Ancient Sword clatter to the stone. The blade blinked out of existence, and Link toed the empty handle over to Symin. “You don’t want to make me draw the sword that seals the darkness.”

“Do it!” The Koroks were getting antsy behind Symin, scared of the proceedings but unsure of how to stop them. “Draw the Master Sword! And once it’s out, you will pass it along to me, and I’ll destroy your Sheikah Slate and go back to Kakariko, and I’ll have proven myself to Paya.”

“What are you going to prove? That you threatened one of her friends into drawing the sword? She knows its legend, and she’ll know you didn’t draw it yourself.” He shook his head. “She’ll see right through you.”

Symin sneered. “If you don’t come back, she’ll never know.”

“So you’ll have killed someone else she’s close to.” Symin had gotten so wrapped up in his plan and so attached to his exhaustive script that he could not accommodate a change to it, not even one like being found out. Link would rather that were the case. Symin had once been an enthusiastic student of Purah’s, a kind man who aided Link on his quest. What had become of him? Had a misplaced attachment done all this to him?

“It’s not going to work,” Link pleaded. “What Paya really wants is for you to go back to Kakariko and hand yourself over. That would bring her peace.”

But it was never about what Paya wanted. No, it was about Symin doing what he wanted under the guise of believing it was his only option, and to be rewarded by an unaware and loving Paya for his troubles.

Sweat was beading on Symin’s forehead. His fingers were trembling, and the tip of his arrow wobbled while he struggled to keep the bowstring drawn so tensely. His teeth were gritted, and his eyes had lost their humane quality to them. “Enough dawdling. Do it, Link!”

Link swallowed and then turned around to face the Master Sword. It glimmered from its pedestal, beckoning anyone who managed to crawl out of the perilous Lost Woods. Symin must have fallen victim to that temptation and attempt to draw it, but he had let go before it totally sucked away his life force. He was smart enough to stop before it killed him, though.

Symin made it through the Lost Woods. He could see the Koroks. And he knew to let go of the sword before it killed him. All things Link thought only he was capable of. And Symin had wrestled with the ancient runes to make them more powerful than his technologically-savvy ancestors ten thousand years ago. Symin’s ferocity had flown under the radar, and Impa had died for it.

He reached out and clasped his hand around the Master Sword’s hilt. Already he felt the blade taxing his strength, but Link held fast as it inched higher and higher out of the ground. It slid out slowly, and he even wondered if he had lost the ability to draw it until at last the Master Sword came free, glittering in the sunny forest.

“Do you realize,” Link said slowly, “that you have just armed the most competent swordsman in the last century with the most powerful weapon in Hyrule?”

Symin was a genius, but his intellect was bound up in years of careful planning and observation. A scientist does not rush into anything. But a knight who had seen too much and barely lived to tell the tale did not sit and wait until he was certain it was time to act. Link acted, because disaster would befall him, Paya, or all of Hyrule if he did not. 

The arrow whizzed toward Link's head, but the Champion had already dodged away. His sapped strength had returned to him and he swung the Master Sword, sending a beam of holy light toward Symin. Caught in the middle of nocking another arrow, he evaded the light, dropping half the arrows in his quiver in his wake.

Symin fired another arrow at Link, which he dodged again. He knew his luck would run out soon enough, and without a shield, he felt particularly vulnerable. He had to strike quickly if he wanted to make it out of this forest with Symin in tow.

But Symin, who had found his footing, wasn’t letting up. He fired arrow after arrow at Link, forcing him to stay on the defense. There was no clever solution to fighting him, no exact timing or secret weapon that could take him down. Symin forced him to dance around the Master Sword’s stone dais, constantly bobbing and weaving around the arrows whistling through the air.

Link’s luck ran out when he took an arrow to his arm. He cried out in pain, and the fire in Symin’s eyes burned with an animal-like ferocity. “That sword that seals the darkness is no more!” he declared.

And true to his word, the light in the Master Sword sputtered out. Its magic power was at its fullest when the wielder was uninjured—a godly incentive, maybe, to push the chosen ones to fight as hard as they could—and Link had lost the advantage of the chosen one. Symin was a formidable foe who knew how to use his greatest strength, his mind, to its fullest extent, outpacing Link at every turn.

And he didn’t give him a chance to think. All he could do was run for cover, ducking around the Great Deku Tree’s roots while he scrambled for a plan. He had the Master Sword, but Symin was holding the Deku Tree hostage, and he had a bow that kept Link at a sufficient distance. Without the beam of light, the sword couldn’t touch him.

A sword against a bow. What was he to do?

And then suddenly, the answer blossomed clearly into his mind. As he hunkered down behind one of the Deku Tree’s biggest roots, he thought to himself, _With strength and patience, a bow is just another piece of wood._

Symin closed in on him, his footfalls quieted by the grass. “Come out from there, Link!” he said. “You think you can take me in by hiding away?”

Link waved his hand out from behind the root and withdrew it just in time for an arrow to hit the dirt right below it. Symin moved slowly through the ankle-deep puddle of water right behind him, loud enough to obscure Link’s own movements. The hero climbed as quietly as he could up the root, biting down hard on his lip so he didn’t make a sound.

With a silent heave upward, he quietly perched on top of the root. Symin was kneeling in the water, keeping watch over the length of the root. He expected Link to come charging around it. It would be his last mistake.

“Symin!”

The moment the Sheikah’s eyes met his, Link leaped from the root, swinging the Master Sword down hard.

“No!” Symin threw up the bow to deflect the blow, just in time to meet the sword’s edge. The attack forced him prone to the ground, Link wailing on the bow without pause. He struck at the bow like how he’d dealt with the Guardians, the Ganon Blights, and then Ganon himself, the behemoth that had taken up residence in Hyrule Castle. But those were built by the intelligent Sheikah and powered by ancient magic. Symin’s flimsy little bow was splintering away with every cut.

Symin was pleading for something, but Link couldn’t hear him. His finely-attuned ears were focused solely on the cracking of the bow before him. Yes, it was a weak bow, made of wood too feeble to last, something carried by a traveler or merchant. It didn’t stand a chance.

With one last, almighty crack, the bow shattered and split in two, falling to the ground. Link leveled the tip of the Master Sword at Symin’s throat, who was staring up at him with shock, and with the uncomfortable, creeping awareness that he had lost.

“Your Slate.”

Wordlessly, Symin fumbled for his prototype Slate. He unclasped it from his belt and held it out to Link, but he didn’t take it. “Release the Deku Tree.”

He pointed it at the tree and hit the button. The yellow chains snapped apart and vanished, but the Deku Tree slept peacefully on. Koroks came flooding out of their hiding places, eager to thank the hero once again. A few even brought him rope woven from vines. “Thanks, Chio. I’d recognize your handiwork anywhere. Would you mind binding his wrists and taking that artifact from him, please?”

In short order, Symin was bound and the prototype Slate was now in Link’s hands. With a little jiggery-pokery, he managed to find a return functionality in the prototype and set it so Symin would return with the push of a button. With Symin bound up like this, and between Zelda’s sealing power and the Yiga Sickle, he would arrive in the village in safe hands.

Link readied his Sheikah Slate, setting his destination to Ta’loh Naeg Shrine. Symin, whose eyes had been locked on the shattered bow, finally looked up at Link and spoke. His voice was quiet and meek. “You should have killed me.”

“And let you escape your consequences? Not a chance.” He shook his head. “Your fate is in Paya’s hands. Only the goddesses know what she’s going to do to you.”

Symin was trying to fray his nerves, and he knew it. Link knew he was falling for the bait as he added, “Believe me, killing you would have brought me immense satisfaction. But I didn’t—that’s why I called out your name, so you would be ready for my blow. And do you know why?”

He fixed Symin with a hard stare. “Because Paya asked me to bring you back alive. That’s what it means to care about someone.”

Symin’s mouth opened and closed, but if he had anything to say, Link ignored it, pressing the button and watching him evaporate in the soft blue glow of Sheikah work. “Apologies, Chio,” he said, lifting the Sheikah Slate. “I’ll be back soon to straighten things out. I just have some business to take care of first.”

“Of course, Mister Hero!” Chio said cheerfully, as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened.

“Thanks.” Link pressed the button that sent him off to Kakariko again, exhausted and aching but so, so relieved. _I told you I wouldn’t fail you, Impa. It’s all over._


	13. All is Clear

“Ow!”

“Sorry, sorry! I thought they were supposed to go on tight.”

“It’s a bandage, not a tourniquet.”

Zelda shot him a look and resumed changing his bandage, though she allowed more slack as she wound it around his arm and tucked the end into the folds. She was trying to hide her smile, but it wasn’t working. “I remember times when you hardly made a sound if you were injured. You’d just quietly slip off to the nearest physician and get it taken care of.”

Link moved his arm, testing the limits of the bandage. The wound Symin’s arrow left him wasn’t serious, but since losing Mipha’s healing power, neither he nor Zelda were keen on taking chances. The bandage was wrapped snugly, and though the light of the Kakariko Village inn was soft, he doubted he would find anything wrong with Zelda’s work. “Well, we’re a long way from Hyrule Castle.”

“We are.” Zelda sat beside him on the bed and handed him his tunic. “Do you need help redressing?”

“I think I have that covered,” he replied with a smile as he pulled his ordinary tunic back on. It was a relief to be out of the Champion’s Tunic, which Lasli had   
volunteered to wash upon his return. Zelda herself was back in her ordinary traveling clothes, though she was usually wrapped in a cloak, too. Purah had said herself that they were bound to catch a cold, and Paya had graciously allowed the pair of them to stay in the village while they recovered. 

Even now, Zelda was doing her best to untuck the blanket from the inn’s bed and burrow into it, as she did every time she arrived in Hyrule Castle after a long journey. They would hunker down in front of the fire and hang their wet clothes to dry while they waited for the cook to whip up whatever she could.

“Paya will be expecting us soon,” said Zelda. “I’ve never seen a luminous gravestone before. I’m sure Dria will make something befitting Impa’s life.” Their old friend’s gravestone was finished, after Paya had made a formal apology to Dria for involving her in the investigation. The artisan had been gracious and worked at breakneck speed to finish the monument, which would be unveiled this afternoon.

“We have a few more minutes.” He looked over at the Master Sword, put safely into its scabbard which was leaning on the foot of the bed. He knew he should make the trip back to the Lost Woods to return it, but he had plans that may yet require its use. “Do you think Paya would want me to wear the sword?”

Zelda looked thoughtfully at it, and then shook her head. “I don’t think Paya wants any more weapons nearby,” she said. “I would leave it here.”

He nodded. Even after Symin had been dealt with, the Master Sword wasn’t going to bring Paya any joy. Symin was locked up in Raza’s home, another boon of graciousness, until the royal vanguard arrived to transport him to Hyrule Castle’s prison, where he would be tried to the fullest extent of both Sheikah and Hylian law. 

“Are you sure you should be in his vicinity for a days-long journey?” he asked. “You haven’t deactivated the Shrines yet, and they would be much more expedient.”

She shook her head. “We took enough liberties as it is in apprehending him. We should stick to the book from now on.” She looked down at her lap and said, “Though, if we ever have a crisis like this again, I believe it would be useful to keep the Shrines operational.”

So the Shrines would stay. Link didn’t comment on it, knowing Zelda had withstood enough commenting on her decisions since before the Calamity, and merely said, “An on-foot journey it is.” 

He reached for the Master Sword and lay it in his lap, turning the scabbard over in his hands. The words were on the tip of his tongue. Hylia had chosen him to embody courage, but suddenly the bravery he’d been imbued with had fled. But the words needed to be said. “If that’s the case, Your Highness, if you would allow me the privilege, I would like to accompany you to Hyrule Castle.”

Zelda’s head snapped toward him. He saw caution in the way she bit her lip, but the optimism in her eyes was unmistakable. “And what happens when we arrive? Do you intend to return to Hateno Village?”

He sighed. It was one thing to interview suspects and talk someone down from a ledge, but it was quite another to crack open his heart. “I would like to remain in the castle and take up my previous appointment as your knight.”

_“Just_ my knight?”

“Of course not.” Link could never stand wordplay, owing to the fact that he was awful at it. “I thought of you every day after I left, Zelda. I hope you never doubted that I loved you, and that I love you still.”

Zelda turned away from him. Her jaw clenched and she sniffled, asking, “Why are you doing this now?”

“Because running away from you was the single most effective thing to ensure you were in greater peril.” As soon as the words leaped off his tongue, he realized how ridiculous—no, egotistical they sounded. “What I mean is that if, Hylia forbid, you were mortally wounded again, I couldn’t live with myself if I wasn’t there to try and stop it.”

He looked down and found that their hands were clasped together on the bed. He couldn’t remember who initiated it. “You are essential to my being, Zelda. I’ve grown. I’ve recovered, or at least I’m well on the way. It may be divine will or the pattern of our ancestors, but whatever it is, I need you.”

She gazed at him, her lip trembling. She sniffled again, though he was sure it had nothing to do with her cold. “You heard me at the Fairy Fountain. I never stopped loving you, either.”

His heart soared, which sent a pulse along his arm and into his fingers, which squeezed her hand affectionately. She added, “Thank you, Link. Truth be told, I’ve barely slept since you left, too. Your presence at my side was a comforting one. I would be glad to have your company back to the castle.”

A smile burst onto his face. He and Zelda worked like one single mechanism as they pulled each other into their arms. Her fingers knotted into his tunic while his wove into her hair, and they held each other so close that nothing, Hyrule nor fear nor Ganon himself, could get between them again.

It occurred to Link that he could kiss Zelda again, but it occurred to her first. Zelda’s lips were upon his before he knew it, and the Master Sword clattered to the floor as she embraced him more fully, attempting to climb into his lap—

“Zelda!” Link broke away from her, a smile on his face. “We have the unveiling soon, remember?”

Her face fell, but she bounced back quickly. “We’re far from finished.”

“Yes, Princess.”

They sorted themselves out and headed out to the graveyard in the Village, where the others were gathering for the unveiling. Paya, Robbie, and Dria stood beside a covered stone, whose cloth veil fluttered in the slight breeze. He spotted Purah at the far end of the graveyard, where only a fence protected mourners from the sheer cliff drop. He parted from Zelda, and as he neared the scientist, he saw her turning over Symin’s prototype Slate in her small hands.

“Good afternoon, Purah,” he said. “Paya gave that back to you?”

“I insisted.” Her big eyes were narrow as she looked through the prototype’s capabilities. “Paya did not like having it around, anyway.”

He looked out to the Lanayru Wetlands in the distance. The bright, afternoon sun shone down upon them, making the water glimmer gold. He didn’t say anything because it was not his place to, and as Purah proved a moment later, she had a lot to share.

“I thought I had Symin figured out,” she said. “He performed lower than how I expected him to when he first came to my lab. He annoyed me, but I thought he was just that—an annoyance. And then you say that this Slate was born from his predations upon my niece. This was the only brilliance he had ever shown, and it had come from such a vile place.”

“I’m sorry.”

Purah gave no indication that she heard him. “Robbie thinks I should study his prototype. Make use of the work he put in.”

She walked right up to the protective fence at the edge of the cliff and tossed the prototype over it. He barely caught the sound of it shattering, but he knew Purah was listening because she only spoke afterward. “If Symin can figure it out, I can, too.”

“Ahem!” called Paya. Link and Purah returned to the crowd, and Link found Zelda’s side again as Paya declared, “Now that we are all gathered here, I am proud to present a memorial for my grandmother Impa, to commemorate her longstanding service to Hyrule and Princess Zelda. Dria, if you will.”

With a proud smile, Dria whisked the veil off and revealed a luminous replica of the curved tip of a Serpentine Spear, as big as the headstones beside it. The stone glowed, even in the afternoon light, imbued with a magic all its own.

“The Serpentine Spear is a weapon born from Sheikah cleverness and skill,” Paya explained. “Impa worked in Kakariko Village for over a century to ensure Ganon’s fall. Like a spear, she remained at a distance, but her strikes were devastating.”

After applause, the Sheikah dispersed to pay their respects to the memorial. Paya found Link and Zelda in the crowd and pulled them away to speak with them.

“It’s incredible,” said Zelda. “Truly. I think Impa would be so touched by what you chose to do.”

“Thank you, Princess,” Paya replied, with a slight bow of her head. “I think she would be proud that you two remained here to see it.”

“Certainly no prouder than she would be of you.” Link offered Paya a smile. “You’re going to lead the Sheikah beautifully, Paya. I have as much faith in you as I did your grandmother when we met.”

“Thank you, Link.” Her words were wobbly. “I look forward to strengthening the bond between the Hyrule Royal Family and the Sheikah once again. Like you said, Princess. We can build a better Hyrule.”

“I can’t wait,” Zelda said, though her words were lost as Paya’s attention went to something over their heads. Link, ever cautious, spun around and saw a golden light blazing from the top of the hill, the same golden light Zelda wielded, right by the Fairy Fountain where Rolk’s tomb remained. “Paya?”

All at once, Paya was dashing along the path and up the hill, paying no mind to her citizens or the ceremony. Link and Zelda followed, of course, partly uneasy about letting anyone run amok alone in the village, and partly because one of Symin’s observations stuck out to him. Symin had said the Stasis rune broke with distance, and perhaps it had been Stasis that kept him from fully healing—

The hopefuls made it to the top of the hill, where Rolk’s amber coffin was pulsing with that golden light, accompanied by a warm, holy hum. Link held an arm out, stopping his and Zelda’s progress into the clearing, but Paya was unafraid. Paya had drawn right up to it and was extending her arm to touch it when the humming ceased, and the clearing was filled by a resounding _crack._

And then, with the twinkle of a hundred fairies, the amber tomb shattered. The holy light glimmered in the fragments as they scattered across the clearing, flickering and eventually dimming into nothing. A completely healed Rolk lay in the bed of scraps, and with a great start, he opened his eyes and sat up, looking around until his eyes landed on his fiancée.

“Paya?” Rolk attempted to stand, but his elbows quivered under his weight and he was blinking very fast, as if to reorient himself. Paya caught onto his wooziness and pulled him into her arms, sitting down in the rubble beside him. His hand clung to her arm as he said, “What happened? I was…I was attacked! Symin did it, because he must never have gotten rid of the fairy--!”

“We know,” Paya said gently, her hand combing back his dark hair. “Symin’s locked up. You’re safe, my robin.”

He met her eyes. Only now did they look clear. Only now did he release his deep breath. “My heron.”

Paya tucked his head under her chin, content to sit there with him for, perhaps, the next hundred years. Zelda touched Link’s hand and whispered, “We should tell Robbie and Purah where their niece went.”

“We should.” They headed back down to Kakariko Village, leaving Paya and Rolk to their own devices at the Fairy Fountain. And as they walked, Link found Zelda’s hand and held it tight. Hylia and her goddesses had levied misery after misery upon Link and Zelda, and Paya, too, but now they were granting them the opportunity to be happy after their trials. And in this capricious land they lived in, Link knew that the next trial was just around the corner.

But until then, he would hold onto the Master Sword. Until then, they would rule justly and mercifully. Hyrule was saved, Rolk was alive, and Link was back where he belonged: at Zelda’s side. The war was over, and he was determined to hang onto the hard-won peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double upload today because it's the end, and people want to see everything wrapped up. Thanks so much to the commenters and readers! I'd love feedback/critique!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think in the comments, and you can follow me on tumblr, where I'm tagging updates with #dotw!


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